“How about I fill you in over lunch?” He glanced at their surroundings. “This probably isn’t the best place to rehash old times.”
She pulled her gaze from him, taking in the police officers, Delilah, and others who still talked and gathered evidence. How had she not heard or seen them from the moment Cillian moved close to her?
Her reaction to him didn’t matter nearly as much as what he’d admitted. He’d come to Chicago, even taken a job at her workplace, because of her. What did he mean?
“Expert on not having fun and taking care of people perfectly…Still getting yourself into trouble.”
What he’d said in their brief exchange returned like sound bites of evidence, clicking into place. References to their past. To the worst part.
The memory, the thought of what he knew—the secret—squeezed her lungs as if it might choke her.
She had kept the truth to herself all these years for good reasons. For her family.
Only one other person knew the secret. And he was standing in front of her, seeming to taunt her with it.
Was that why he had returned? To expose what had happened as some sort of delayed revenge?
The possibility robbed her of words, of air.
“Come on. You’re not afraid to have a little lunch with me, are you?” The daring technique. Always his next tactic when she didn’t acquiesce to what he wanted immediately.
Well, that kind of persuasion didn’t work on her anymore. “I’m late for my next client as it is.” She pointedly checked her wristwatch, breathing a little easier as she broke from the pressure of his gaze. “I couldn’t possibly meet for lunch.”
“Dinner, then.”
She lifted her chin, her strength returning as she thought of an easy answer. “I don’t date coworkers.”
His grin returned. “Drinks.”
She should’ve known he’d keep trying. He never did give up until he got what he wanted. “I don’t?—”
“You don’t drink? You know you’re an adult now, right?” The amusement in his gaze irked her enough to solidify her resolve even more.
“That is why I choose not to consume alcoholic beverages.”
His lips twitched as he watched her, the grin gone, but apparently not for long. “Okay. Dessert or coffee, then.”
She couldn’t say she didn’t consume dessert or coffee, since that would be a lie.
“I promise I’ll tell you everything you want to know about why I’m here.” The confidence in his eyes said he knew that would convince her.
Which should make her turn and run the other way. She should at least stand her ground and refuse to meet with him or speak to him again.
But as irritating as it was for her to admit, even to herself, he was right. She needed to learn what he was doing here, what he wanted, and what his intentions were. She had to know if he planned to reveal her secret.
It still wasn’t the right time. The division and problems the revelation could wreak in her family were unthinkable. She couldn’t allow him to expose the truth. She needed to share that at the appropriate time herself, if there ever was a need to do so.
“Very well. I will meet you at Mason Grill at eight p.m.” Choosing the time and place herself gave her the modicum of control she desperately needed. She could not have him thinking she was as easy to persuade as her fifteen-year-old self, the young girl who had let him lead her into making the most tragic mistake of her life.
“It’s a date.” He’d likely said that to bait her. Yes, the amusement in his eyes left no doubt.
But she bit her tongue and stepped around him, holding her head high as she left the house without looking back.
She had only agreed to learn why he was here. She would likely need the knowledge to counteract whatever he had in mind.
Cillian Doherty may have materialized at the perfect time to save her life, but she had the feeling his next move would be to upend it.
Chapter
