Page 99 of Nobody Told Me Thrift Shops Sell Stolen Dragon Heirlooms

Consequences weren’t.

I stepped back.

“Goodnight, Ms. Bradley.”

Disappointment flashed across her face. It was gone almost immediately, covered by a smile that arrived a fraction too late.

“Oof,” she said. “Last name. Brutal.”

“It seemed safest.”

Her smile held, but her eyes stayed on mine. “That makes it sound like there were unsafe options.”

I didn’t answer quickly enough.

Her smile shifted again, lighter now, protective. “Right. Professional. Good call.”

It wasn’t a good call if it put that look on her face. Unfortunately, it was still the correct one.

“Thank you for tonight,” I said.

“Which part? The legal work, the dog diplomacy, or sparing you the full ‘Y.M.C.A’ experience?”

“All of it.”

She bit her lip and let out a small breath. “You’re welcome.”

The hallway remained too quiet.

“Goodnight, Rafe,” she said.

The use of my name landed more intimately than it should have. No title. No last name. No protective distance.

“Goodnight, Quinn.”

She stepped inside. Max followed, pausing to give me a solemn look before he disappeared inside. Quinn gave me one last small smile and closed the door.

I stood there until I heard the lock turn, then I went back downstairs.

The lobby door still didn’t latch when I tested it. It swung open under my hand with insulting ease, then bumped back toward the frame and sat there, barely touching metal.

I could solve it before morning.

Three phone calls, perhaps four if the management company was foolish. I could have a locksmith there within the hour. I could buy the building if necessary, though that wasn’t a reasonable thought and therefore didn’t deserve the dignity of examination. I could place security outside until the repair was complete. I could remove the problem entirely.

The fact that I could solve a problem didn’t make it mine to solve.

I stood in the vestibule and let that irritate me.

Quinn Bradley didn’t need another powerful man deciding what was best for her. She needed the position she’d earned, the recommendation I’d promised, and the room to build the life she wanted without someone like me making the room tilt.

I stepped outside.

The driver straightened where he was standing next to the car. “Home, sir?”

“In a moment.”

I looked up at the building. A light came on three floors above, warm behind a narrow window. A shadow moved across it. Quinn, probably. Then another lower shape passed briefly near the sill.