Page 39 of Keller

“He runs private tables,” I say. “High-stakes card games.”

She lifts her brows. “Poker.”

“Yes. Among other things, I'm guessing. I don't know. Cards.”

“Is it illegal?”

“No.”

“Is he under investigation?”

“No.”

“Connected to the port?”

“Not operationally, that I can tell.”

Leah tilts her head. “Then what exactly is the line you think you’re crossing?”

I hesitate, because that is the question.

“He’s adjacent,” I say finally. “His last name is Stone. The family controls the company. Even if he’s not embedded in thelogistics side, he benefits from the same holdings. If something surfaces and it turns out I was sleeping with one of the sons while reviewing the business, that looks compromised.”

Leah leans back in her chair and considers that.

Leah studies me. “Quinn, are you trying to protect your career, or are you trying to protect yourself from something else?”

"Okay, let's forget he's Robert's son. Let's assume there isn't a boundary issue since he doesn't actually work for the company. Did you hear me say he runs a gambling operation!"

"This is Louisiana, Quinny. Everyone gambles."

"It's not about gambling. It's about proximity, power, and influence. The kind of people sitting at those tables could be the same people I'm trying to track. It's messy. It's just too much."

"You're reviewing a corporation, not building a case against this man. Quinn, that's a stretch, even for you."

"Not yet."

Leah sets her glass down and leans forward, elbows on butcher paper.

"Listen to me. If something changes, you step away. If he crosses a line, you stop. But right now? He's a guy you had insane chemistry with. A guy who pulled you out of traffic and asked you to dinner. Let your hair down, for Christ's sake."

I pick up my brush again and focus on the canvas, and don't answer. I want to believe what she's saying, but the voice in my head tells me to run for a plethora of red flags.

"Can we talk about something else? I thought this was our date night, not bag on Quinn night."

Leah groans and blows a hair out of her face dramatically. "You're no fun."

TEN

Quinn

White Tie & Tails:Traditional krewe balls often require full white-tie attire, with men in tailcoats and women in formal gowns, reinforcing the old-world formality of Carnival’s most exclusive events. The strict dress code underscores the hierarchy and ritual that define elite krewe culture.

It's beenthree days since Leah and I painted our masterpieces of the Mississippi. I can't stop replaying the one things she said to me that night: "You're reviewing a corporation. Not building a case against this man."

The more I find only reenforces the fact that he has nothing to do with Stone Intermodal besides being related to the CEO. I'm not an investegator investigating him or any of them, for that matter. I'm a forensic analysis expert looking for anything that might call for an investigation.

Still, I think it's all a moot point. I'm better off staying away, and he's made it clear by not reaching out to me that it isn't in the cards for us. Pun intended.