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I dropped onto my sofa, relaxing far back into the cushions as Earl jumped up after me and headbutted me in the side. “All the time in the world.”
I didn’t touch the ground over the next few days. Maybe I was hoping keeping busy would keep me from thinking anything, but—it was probably more that I didn’t want any space to second-guess myself. I bounced from one contact to the next, touching base as broadly as I could, and it was Friday morning when I met Adam Garcia for lunch at a café in South Beach, and he grinned at me, standing up to take my bag for me like the quaint gentleman he was.
“London,” he said. “You seem like you’ve lost a little black cloud lately.”
“Ah… maybe something like that. Shall we go order?”
“Medianoche for you again?”
I shrugged. “Eh, thinking of mixing it up.”
And it was only Monday afternoon that I finally touched the ground, standing in the lobby of the sleek high-rise, wearing a suit again for the first time in what felt like years. The agent onboarding me, handing me over for the transfer, an older man from Switzerland named Robert with a salt-and-pepper moustache and a serious demeanor, was ordering coffee for us in the lobby kiosk, and while I waited for him to come back, I had to stand there, silent, under the weight of the past week’s thoughts catching up with me.
One last try. What did that really mean? Maybe starting over in Vegas would have been smarter, more sensible.
But Cameron would have told me not to spend so much time being smart, being sensible.
“Client’s going to be late,” Robert grumbled, coming back towards me with my cold brew and his espresso. “Not uncommon with this one.”
“Thanks, Robert.” I took the coffee, sipping lightly at it. Fruity, sweet. Not bad. “You didn’t mention it’s me taking over her case, did you?”
“Allison said it was a strict condition of yours for taking it on, so…” He sniffed, almost disdainfully, at the air. “What, are we throwing her a surprise party?”
“Oh, you know. Something like that.”
He shook his head, turning back to the entrance, sipping his espresso. Guy had no sense of fun.
After a second, he said without looking at me, “Allison mentioned your track record…”
“Mm-hm. You could think of me as something of a…” I shrugged lightly. “A professional survivor.”
“A bad luck charm, more like.”
“Eh. All depends on how you look at it.”
He gave me a look, and it was then that the door slid open and, with heels clicking over the tile floor, Cameron Mercier strode into the building lobby, phone to her ear, everything about her pressed as she walked in and stopped suddenly at the sight of us, nearly tipping forward as she did.
I smiled lightly, giving her an impish little wave. I mouthed need a minute? while I mimed a phone to my ear, but she didn’t say anything.
She was cute in stunned quiet like this. Of course, the sleek white suit with high heels didn’t hurt, either. God, she was gorgeous.
When a voice chattered from her phone, she interrupted. “I’m at my appointment. I’ll call you back.”
The voice chittered back, sounding outraged, but Cameron didn’t give them the time of day. She hung up, sliding her phone into her purse as she looked between the two of us.
“Miss Mercier—” Robert started, and Cameron waved him off.
“About time you finally listened,” she said. “So I’m handed off now, yes?”
“Well—” Robert started, scrunching up his nose.
“If that’s the case, then I assume your work here is done. Have a lovely day, Robert. Pleasure working with you.”
Robert looked between us, brow furrowed. I took the pleasure of sipping lightly at my coffee, just enjoying the consternation on his features, before I spoke. “Thanks for the hand-off. I’ll take Cameron up to the property from here.”
“There’s a procedure—” he started, and Cameron put a hand up.
“And this is an exception. As I said… have a lovely day.”
