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I wink at her as I straighten. “On another note: you staying here for a while longer?”

Charli sighs, her focus returning to her laptop. “Probably. I just want to get through some of this.” She glances back up at me. “Sounds like you’ve got some appointments to keep tonight. Will you be home late?”

Home.

I try not to think about how much I love the sound of that word on her lips.

I clear my throat and say, “Not too late, but…yeah. Probably later than normal.”

She nods with a small smile. “Okay, then. See you tonight.”

I don’t want to leave this room. I really don’t want to deal with Dickerson and fucking Harrison.

But I have to. Because this is my job. And this is the life I’ve created for myself.

My stomach drops for a whole other reason as I leave the room.

“Bye, Charli.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

CHARLI

I don’t see Lucas for another two days. I can tell by the way Samantha keeps running around that things haven’t slowed, and by the way Lucas continuously gets home after midnight.

So much for busy being a phase. It seems like it’s this way all the time.

I don’t mind the quiet on my end because it allows me to focus on my own research. I’ve completed the financial analysis and found no sketchy business, so I’ve moved on to the company’s mission statements and history of its executives. I’ve found that if the issue isn’t in the numbers, it’s usually in the people.

But nothing is jumping out at me. The current executive team reads the way I expect any company to, even in the emails I’ve hacked. They’re all passionate workaholics who sound completely different in company-wide emails versus emails between themselves. All normal.

It definitely doesn’t look like they’re gearing up to do anything but what they’re promising when they acquire Randall’s company.

So why do I still have the feeling that I’m missing something?

I close my laptop with a tired exhale and lean back in my chair. It’s late, and the café I’m calling my office for the day is about to close. I need to get home. Turn my brain off for a few hours so I can look at this with fresh eyes again tomorrow.

It takes me twenty minutes to walk home. Excluding my unfortunate first housing situation, I’ve decided I like Philadelphia. In the few weeks I’ve been here, I’ve really enjoyed exploring the city, visiting coffee shops and restaurants and discovering fun new places. Different areas have different vibes, and all have their own appeal. I’m glad my work brought me here.

I wave at the doorman when I reach Lucas’s apartment building. Just the fact that this place has a doorman, and that he insists on making the tenants’ lives easier, was something I had to get used to. It’s been a while since I’ve experienced this kind of luxury. And even then, it was never my choice, and it was never permanent. It’s taken me a minute to be okay with choosing to put myself in this setting.

On the topic of his home, my thoughts turn to Lucas, the same way they always do. I usually find myself thinking about our physical connection, but lately, I’ve been thinking about our latest conversation. About Lucas’s job and how he feels about it.

We haven’t talked about it since I first accepted the case, when I first brought up my concerns about the company he keeps. Then, it felt like we said everything we needed to say. But now… Now that this thing between us is…a thing, it feels like a bigger hurdle than before. Even if only temporarily. Because despite the fact that I’m leaving in a few weeks, I care about Lucas enough to want better for him.

It’s why I pushed him on his job. But I can’t get a read on him. I know he likes parts of his job, and not others, but I can’t for the life of me understand why he’s still at the firm. Because with the way he looked answering his boss’s call the other day, he seems miserable. Is he really only at the firm because of the money? Because he’s comfortable? Scared of change? What is it?

I exhale heavily as I tap in the code on the door. I wish I knew the answers to those questions. Or at the very least, I wish it seemed like Lucas knew the answers.

I’m not expecting Lucas to be home when I open the door. He’s been getting home so late this week that I thought for sure I’d be on my own tonight, too. But when I walk into the apartment, I find him sitting at the kitchen counter, those damn slutty little glasses on his face, and him hunched over his laptop.

He looks up when I come in. “Hey,” he greets, surprised. I should not love the way he smiles when he sees me. “I was wondering when you were going to be home.”

Toeing off my Converse, I hang up my leather jacket and make my way over to the kitchen. “I should say the same thing about you. I’m surprised you’re home.”

He sighs and rolls out his shoulders in a stretch. “Yeah. I shouldn’t be, what with all the work I still need to finish, but whatever. I had to get out of there. I needed a break.”

I place my computer bag on the counter and take a seat on the barstool next to him. Too curious to stem the urge, I peek at his screen. “So then what are you working on?”