Page 58
“We can discuss the limits of my authority after you arrive.”
“You have no authority to limit.”
“Then you should have no reason to fear the discussion.” I lower my voice as an officer speaks near her again. “Don’t search the shelves before you leave, Cassie. Collect the planner, pack your things, and come here.”
“I heard you the first three times.”
“You don’t have a great record of listening the first time.”
She mutters a curse under her breath, then tells me they’ll leave as soon as the police finish. The call ends before I can answer, and I stare at her name on the screen. Last night, I wanted her back in my office because I remembered her mouth. Today, another man touched the entrance to her home, and the part of me I buried when I left the Bratva wants his name and enough time alone with him to guarantee he never returns.
The red Subaru reaches the administration building at five eighteen with an orange cat shouting from the back seat and Harris’s sedan behind it. I wait under the covered entrance as rain darkens the courtyard. Cassie parks near the steps and climbs out in dark jeans, white sneakers, and a green sweater under her raincoat.
I look her over for injuries before I can stop myself. Cassie notices.
“No injuries,” she says as I approach. “No one touched either of us.”
“Someone tried to enter your home while you were inside. That’s close enough.” I stop in front of her and breathe in her vanilla scent.
Her eyes search mine while the argument she prepared loses part of its force. “I knew Harris was there. I’m not blaming you for sending him.”
I raise an eyebrow. “That’s unexpectedly reasonable.”
“Don’t become attached to it.” Cassie glances down when my eyes drop to her mouth, but the color rising in her cheeks tells me she noticed. “I’m still angry about the permanent security.”
“You may remain angry while they protect you.”
She folds her arms, though she doesn’t step away. “Your talent for compromise needs work.”
“I have other talents.” The words leave before I decide whether to say them, and her eyes rise to mine again.
Last night returns in precise detail, including her palms against my chest and the breath that touched my mouth when neither of us moved away. Cassie’s lips part, and the question in her face has nothing to do with security.
A furious yowl tears through the moment. Birdie opens the rear door and lifts a gray carrier from the seat while Murphy throws his body against its side.
“If either of you plans to help, now would be excellent,” Birdie calls, a canvas bag hanging from each shoulder. “He’s expressed his opinion for forty-five miles, and it hasn’t improved with practice.”
Cassie turns from me and reaches for the carrier. “He thinks volume makes him persuasive.”
“I understand the strategy,” I say, taking the carrier before she can lift it.
“I can carry my own cat.” Her fingers press against my knuckles on the handle, but I don’t release it.
“You also have two bags and Connor’s planner under your arm,” I point out. I look through the mesh at the large orange face glaring back at me. “Do you want to remain with her luggage, or would you prefer to go inside?”
Murphy stops complaining and sniffs near the opening. Cassie stares at him as though his silence is a personal betrayal.
“He doesn’t like anyone,” she says, lifting her chin.
“Perhaps his standards are higher than you thought.”
Birdie laughs while Harris removes the bags.
“If he bites you, I’m not apologizing,” Cassie warns.
“If he bites me, I’ll assume you trained him.” I turn toward the entrance, and Cassie follows.
Inside, the quiet administration building bears little resemblance to the crowded space during the tasting. Gray daylight fills the lobby, and a fire burns in the stone hearth because Sofia insists rain below sixty degrees justifies one.
