Daniel took it and pulled him in for a one-armed hug. “Thanks for the hospitality.”
“Thanks for introducing me to the Wu-Tang Clan.”
“It’s a tragedy that you’re just discovering them, but better late than never.”
Quentin tapped him on the back. “Good luck. You’ve got my number if you’re ever in the San Antonio office.”
Daniel left him in the same place he usually found him, on the sofa surrounded by documents. He hopped onto the MoPac Expressway to avoid the traffic lights of Lamar Boulevard, but got off at the next exit after crawling for a full twenty minutes in bumper-to-bumper traffic. By the time he made it to Samiah’s, the sun had started to set, reflecting streaks of saffron and magenta off her building’s sleek glass windows.
He pulled into a nearby spot that had just been vacated, but instead of getting out of the car, he sat behind the wheel for several minutes. An unease he hadn’t felt since those nights he’d spent trekking through the archipelagos of Indonesia washed over him.
Why was he even debating this? The chances that she would even allow the concierge to let him up were practically nil. He turned off the ignition, got out of the car, and headed for the lobby.
Apprehension and dread mingled in his gut as he waited for her to answer the concierge’s call.
“Hello?”
Daniel’s chest clenched at the sound of her voice coming through the speaker.
“Ms. Brooks, Daniel Collins is here to see you,” the concierge announced.
A significant pause stretched over the line. Disbelief charged through him when he next heard, “You can let him up.”
The concierge nodded toward the elevator bank. The tension flooding his veins intensified as the car climbed upward. Daniel was certain he’d find her waiting for him when he got off on her floor, but the hallway was empty. He walked up to her door and rapped on it twice. It opened.
He swallowed hard, regret residing in his throat like a living thing. He waited for her to invite him in, but after a few exceedingly uncomfortable moments, realized she wouldn’t.
“I just want a minute to explain myself,” he opened.
Samiah stood in the middle of the doorway. One brow arched as she stared at him, waiting.
Daniel coughed, suddenly unsure where to begin.
“I’m not sure how much you know,” he said.
“I know you used my credentials to access Trendsetters’ client database, and that you’ve been lying to me about who you really are. That’s really all I need to know,” she said.
He nodded. She was right. The ancillary details were worthless. What mattered is that he’d lied to her.
“I didn’t set out to steal your access card from the very beginning,” he said. “The lies…that’s…that’s part of my job. I was lying to everybody.”
A muscle jumped in her cheek.
“Not that you’re like everybody else,” he quickly added.
Shit.Could he fuck this up any more than he already had?
“Samiah, please,” Daniel pleaded. “Please believe me when I tell you that I never meant to hurt you.”
He started to reach for her, but pulled back when she flinched. He shoved his hands in his pockets, but continued to plead.
“Copying your keycard was a last resort. Even after you were given access to exactly what I needed, I refused to use it. It was only after I got word that the money-laundering ring was preparing to go underground that I realized I had to do something. I hate that it had to come at the expense of your trust.”
Silence yawned between them, filling the space with an unbearable discomfort as he waited for her to speak. When she did, her voice held not a single drop of emotion.
“I get it,” she said. “You were just doing your job.”
“I’m sorry,” Daniel said again.
