Page 210 of Lorenzo

Mocha glances at me.

“Yes, I know. You like him now. You’re practically best buds.”

His ears twitch before he looks forward again.

“That doesn't mean I have to like this.”

The light ahead turns red, and I slow with traffic. The SUV stops behind the same two cars it has been using as cover.

Dark windows. Ordinary plates. Nothing memorable about the vehicle itself.

I have no idea who is behind the wheel, but I have a very good idea who they work for.

Lorenzo has security everywhere. I figured that out almost immediately after meeting him. Some of it is obvious because it is meant to be, but most of his people know how to disappear into the background.

Until today, none of them have followed me.

At least, none that I noticed.

Considering my former profession, I would like to think I would notice.

Maybe Lorenzo has had someone keeping an eye on me before, and they were simply less obvious about it. He has the resources, and I would hardly be shocked to learn that he occasionally takes liberties with what he considers reasonable precautions.

If that is the case, though, whoever got assigned to me this morning needs more practice.

I spotted them before I made it two blocks.

I pick up the to-go cup from the holder and take a drink.

My coffee, which was already waiting for me on Lorenzo’s kitchen counter when I came downstairs this morning, is exactly the way I like it.

That bothers me a little too, although I am beginning to suspect I have simply entered a phase of my life where everything Lorenzo does irritates me for reasons I would rather not examine too closely.

He was already dressed when I came into the room.

Suit, tie, phone in his hand.

He kissed me while I was still half asleep, told me he had somewhere to be, and left without saying where.

Ordinarily, that would not mean anything. Lorenzo has a business to run, a family with more moving parts than most corporations, and responsibilities I neither expect nor particularly want him to explain every time he walks out the door.

This morning was different.

He was focused in that particular way he gets when something serious is occupying his attention. He barely touched his coffee and checked his phone three times before leaving.

Whatever he had planned this morning involved his family.

I would put money on it.

I check the mirror again as the light changes.

The SUV follows.

“Definitely a family meeting,” I guess.

Mocha pants quietly.

I turn at the next intersection.