Page 15 of The Spy
5
FIONA
I feltlike throwing something and I had no idea why. Surely it couldn’t have been because of Zeke’s flirting with Patience. Why should I care what he did? Except that he’d promised to take this seriously and it didn’t feel like he was.
“Did you learn anything interesting other than Patience’s phone number?” I asked as we reached the SUV, wincing at the catty note in my voice.
“Actually, yes.” He pushed the button to unlock the car and got into the driver’s seat.
I yanked the passenger door open and dropped onto the seat. “So?”
He turned to face me, his expression amused. “Calm down, Fifi. I said I’d help you, and I will.” He relocked the doors and started the engine. “I think we both guessed that it’s likely the Monet was replaced with a forgery, similar to what happened in the Black Swan case four years ago.”
I nodded. “I picked up on that too.”
He drummed his tattooed fingers against the steeringwheel. “Well, did you know that the Windy City Gallery has one of our security systems installed, or that there are no in-person security guards present?”
“No,” I admitted, the heat of frustration inside me cooling down.
“What about the fact that they have five full-time staff, a few part-timers, and others who work in the attached café—most of whom presumably have access to the building?”
I looked down at my lap. Okay, so he’d gotten useful information from Patience. Shame welled within me. I’d had no right to get snarky with him. He was trying to help me, and he had no reason to do that other than being a generally good person. I should know better than to treat him poorly.
“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. You didn’t deserve that.”
“Apology accepted.” He pulled out of the park and maneuvered onto the road.
“I don’t know why I’m being so rude. It’s been a rough day, but that’s no excuse. I’ll try not to do it again.”
He reached over and put his hand on one of mine. “You’re allowed to have off days. I know better than to take it personally.”
The shame churned in my gut. Of course he’d choose today to be understanding. I felt like even more of a bitch. But then he glanced over, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Besides,” he added. “I’ve had plenty of practice at being rejected by you before.”
I huffed and removed his hand from mine. There was the Zeke I knew.
“What should we do now?” I asked, to change the subject.
“You need to go home and take care of yourself,” he said. “Like you said, it’s been a rough day. You deserve a little recovery time.”
“I can’t,” I replied automatically. “I mean, I don’t want to.”
My apartment was as empty as the rest of my personal life. For the past four years, I’d thrown myself into my job with King’s Security. I rarely dated. After Bergen’s betrayal, it was too difficult to open myself up to anyone again. I worked, did my socializing at the gym, and other than that, my life was depressingly barren.
“Just because you don’t want to doesn’t mean you shouldn’t,” he pointed out.
I looked out the side window and pulled a face. He was right, but I really didn’t think being alone, in my stark apartment, would help anything. “If you were in my situation—accused of a crime you didn’t commit—would you just go home and take a nap?”
I turned to face him just in time to see his jaw clench. Interesting. Usually, he wasn’t one to show his emotions about anything.
“No,” he admitted. “I’d work my ass off to find out who was responsible and I’d make them pay.”
I shivered at the dark promise in his voice. Despite the rumors about his black ops background, I’d never been scared of Zeke. I’d thought of him as mostly harmless. Now, I realized what a mistake that might have been. He sounded like a man who meant what he said.
“I’ll take you back to the office,” he said after a minute passed in silence.
“Thanks.”
