Page 93 of Keller

I match her pace. My calves burn. Sweat drips down my spine.

"Process what?"

"This man flew somewhere today." She gestures vaguely at the sky. "On a private jet. And he's flying back. The same day."

"He said he had a meeting."

"A meeting." She laughs, breathless. "Quinn. Normal people have meetings on Zoom. They drive to Baton Rouge. They do not charter aircraft for lunch."

I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. She's not wrong.

"His family has money. You knew that."

"I knew it in theory. But hearing you say it out loud?" She shakes her head. "Argentum galas. Preservation architects. Day trips by jet. It's a different universe."

We pass the iron fence where she was stretching earlier. A pigeon pecks at something near the base of the lamppost.

"He doesn't act like that, though. Honestly, I wouldn't even know where he comes from except that I'm actually digging into the Stones."

Leah tilts her head. Waiting.

"When I'm with him, he's not showing off. He doesn't name-drop or wave his money around." I search for the right words. "He's grounded and present."

"Like what?"

"My orange juice preference. No pulp."

She blinks. "That's weirdly specific."

"Exactly." I stop walking. Turn to face her. "That's what I mean. He pays attention. Not to impress me. Just because he wants to know."

Leah studies me for a long moment. The evening light catches the gold in her earrings.

"I'm really happy for you, friend." She smiles, soft and genuine. "Just remember, you deserve happiness and love. Don't fight it and make work your priority. Okay? Life's too short."

The words settle somewhere deep. I don't know what to say back. We hug at the corner before she heads toward her car. I turn and walk back to the streetcar.

I count the blocks without thinking about it. My legs are tired but my mind is clear. I pull my phone out of my waistband and wipe off the sweat before tapping the screen. I have one missed call from Keller Stone fifteen minutes ago.

My pulse kicks up. I didn't feel it vibrate against me while we were running. It must have been in one of her interrogation moments.

I hit callback and he answers before the first ring finishes.

"Hey." His voice is warm but worn. Tired around the edges. Behind him, I hear the hollow echo of a large space. Footsteps. Distant announcements.

"Hey yourself." I lean back, my shoulder pressing into cool pleather seat. "Are you back?"

"Yes, we had to circle for thirty minutes because every airplane in New Orleans was coming in at the same time. Wheels down about fifteen minutes ago. Heading to the car now."

"Glad you made it back in one piece."

"You hungry?" His voice shifts. Lighter now. "I know it's short notice, but I could eat."

I glance down at myself. Sweat-damp leggings cling to my thighs. My hair is plastered to my neck. I smell like humidity and exertion.

"I just got back from a run with Leah. I'm not exactly dressed for anything formal."

"Who said formal?" I can hear the smile in his voice. "There's an oyster bar on the river. Paper napkins, cold beer. You can wear whatever you want."