Because she put on a nice dress and left work on time.
I should tell Indira to turn around. Go home. Open a bottle of whiskey and forget this ever happened.
But I don’t.
The Uber pulls over near West 4th Street. Bree gets out. I watch her check her phone, adjust her hair, and start walking west.
“Park somewhere with sightlines,” I hear myself say. “Stay in the vehicle.”
Indira obeys.
Callahan turns slightly in the passenger seat. “Sir, if you want us to maintain a protective perimeter, I should accompany you.”
“No. I’m staying here.” I sit in the back of the Mercedes and watch through the tinted windows as Bree walks three blocks and enters a cozy wine bar on the corner.
The kind of place you take a date.
“Park closer,” I instruct Indira.
He obeys.
Through the wine bar’s large front window, I can see a narrow counter running the length of the glass. Bar stools lined up against it, facing out toward the street.
Bree takes one near the center. Settles in with her back to the interior of the bar, her face visible to anyone passing by.
To me.
She adjusts her dress. Checks her phone one more time. Then he appears beside her, claiming the stool to her right, and her entire face transforms.
That smile.
The real one.
The one she’s only ever aimed at me once.
The night we met.
It guts me.
As for the man... he hugs her.Hugs. His arms wrap around her waist and he holds her close. Sheletshim.
My jaw clenches so hard I feel the scar tissue pull.
Their position gives me a perfect view of every interaction. Every smile. Every touch.
“Sir.” Callahan’s voice is carefully neutral. “Would you like us to run a background check on this individual?”
“No.” I seethe. “No background check.”
Shut the fuck up for once, Callahan.
Let me suffer in peace.
I watch them order drinks. Watch the man lean forward, laughing at something Bree said. Watch Bree’s hand rest on the table and his fingers drift across to brush against hers.
She doesn’t pull away.
Something dark and possessive coils inside me.
