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Leo followed a few minutes later to speak with our IT staff, leaving Cillian to close the files on his laptop.

I remained near the conference table, reviewing the notes I'd taken.

"That was an interesting meeting," I said.

"Pretty ordinary, actually."

"People usually acknowledge the person who answers their questions."

Cillian closed his laptop and looked at me. "You'd be surprised how often they don't."

There was no bitterness in his voice. He seemed to regard it as an observation rather than a complaint.

"Well, I appreciate you explaining everything. I'd prefer our clients didn't discover a security problem before we did."

"So would I. It makes for an unpleasant Monday."

His mouth curved into a genuine smile, and I understood why he didn't use it more often. It was devastating.

I returned the smile despite knowing better.

"Then I suppose I'll see you Monday."

"You will."

He picked up his laptop and crossed toward the door. As he passed me, I caught the faint scent of cedar and something warmer beneath it, a subtle masculine fragrance that made me want to lean closer.

I stayed exactly where I was.

Cillian paused with one hand against the doorframe.

"Have a good weekend, Everly."

"You too."

He left, and I released a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

He'd only asked once, and he'd respected my answer.

Unfortunately, every time I saw him, I found myself wishing I'd given him a different one.

I was still considering that particular problem when Jenna Brooks appeared in the doorway.

Jenna was our Client Services Coordinator, a petite brunette with dark curls, warm brown eyes, and a collection of colorful earrings that brightened even the most conservative office outfit.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said. "The caterer called about Monday's luncheon, and I need your approval on the revised menu. Also, there's a tour group taking photographs outside the front windows. Half the clients in reception are watching them."

"Please tell me nobody's trying to get inside."

"Not yet. Although one gentleman in a vampire cape seemed very interested in the building."

"He probably wants to know whether we manage immortal fortunes."

Jenna laughed as she handed me the menu. "If we do, I hope somebody remembers to update our client intake forms."

I checked the substitutions and signed off on the changes. By the time Jenna left, the office had settled back into its usual rhythm of quiet telephone conversations, muted footsteps, and printers humming behind closed doors.

I spent another half hour reviewing Monday's appointments before Taryn Gallagher appeared at my office door.