“How many friends does she have?”
“The girl at the bakery, Lucy. That’s all.”
No personal life, no real outside connections, and no one to question anything if she starts making different choices.
“And the grandmother?”
“Calls her every other day at six in the evening. They talk for about an hour, and then Granny goes to play Bingo. Sienna visits every Sunday on her day off.”
I hum, more to myself than him.
Routine.
Structure.
Predictability.
If I needed to get her attention, I know where she’ll be.
I push the folder aside. My decision has already been made. Not that I say it out loud.
I want to see how Sienna reacts first.
“As always, I appreciate this, Artem.”
He nods. “We moving on this, then?”
“Yep.”
“Do you need me to do anything, or are you capable of charming her?”
I don’t react to his bait. I’m fully capable of getting this to work the way I want. “Was there anything else?”
He smirks. “I’ll let you know.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
With a lazy salute, he leaves my office. The city hums below my window as I plan my next move.
She’s not a fan of me, but I’ve never had any problems with that before.
Sienna Graves wasn’t what I expected when I first saw her standing in my office, shifting on her feet like she wanted to bolt.
She was too soft, too sweet, and too messy.
She always had something on her, like she’d walked straight out of the kitchen without a second thought. Flour on her sleeve, powdered sugar on her cheek, or a smudge of batter on her wrist.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her completely clean.
And those eyes. Light brown, almost golden, especially when she’s looking at me like she doesn’t get why I’m speaking to her.
She’s done that a lot.
Then there’s the hair. It’s red, like a warning of danger wrapped up in something deceptively inviting. She’s not tall, and not tiny either, but she’s got enough curves to make a man look twice.
I’m not immune.
Not that it matters.
