One eyebrow arched slightly. "And you chose my restaurant for sanctuary because...?"
"It was the only place with lights on." I shrugged, trying for nonchalant despite being cornered under a desk. "Plus, I figured no one would look for a broke fugitive in a place where the napkins probably cost more than my shoes."
A fleeting expression crossed his face – was that amusement? It vanished so quickly I couldn't be sure.
"Stand up," he commanded. "I prefer not to conduct interviews with people hiding under my furniture."
Reluctantly, I climbed to my feet, noting that even at my full height, I barely reached his shoulder. The man was built like a brick wall in an expensive suit.
Great.
Just great.
"I'll go," I said, brushing off my borrowed apron. "Your maître d' can tell those guys he found nothing and we can all get on with our evenings."
"Those men," Aleksandrovich said, ignoring my suggestion completely, "they work for Patty O'Rourke, don't they?"
The name hit me like ice water. How did he know?
My silence was apparently answer enough.
"Interesting," he murmured. "And what would O'Rourke want with you? You don't look like his usual associates."
I laughed, a short, sharp sound with no humor in it. "Trust me, I'm not."
Before he could press further, shouting erupted from downstairs. The muffled sounds of struggle carried through the floor, followed by the distinct crash of breaking glass.
Aleksandrovich's expression hardened. "It appears your friends are not taking 'no' for an answer."
"They're not my friends," I snapped, panic rising in my throat. "And they're not going to stop looking."
I needed to get out of here, but the commotion downstairs meant the stairs were no longer an option. My gaze darted to thewindow, calculating my chances of survival from a second-story drop.
As if reading my thoughts, Aleksandrovich stepped between me and the window. "Before you attempt something dramatic and most likely painful, perhaps we should discuss why O'Rourke's men are so determined to find you."
More shouting from below, followed by what sounded like furniture being overturned. Someone was not happy about being kept in the foyer.
I made a split-second decision and reached out with my ability, connecting to the phone on his desk. I made it vibrate violently, skittering across the polished surface.
Modern alarms trumpeting old-school thugs.
Works every time.
Aleksandrovich glanced at the device, momentarily distracted, and I bolted for the door. I yanked it open only to find the hallway now occupied by two men in suits who looked like they bench-pressed cars for fun.
I froze, caught between Aleksandrovich behind me and his security detail ahead of me. The phone on the desk stopped vibrating as my concentration broke.
"Going somewhere?" Aleksandrovich asked, his voice closer to my ear than I expected. I hadn't even heard him move.
I turned slowly to face him, my back pressed against the door frame. "Would you believe I just remembered a dental appointment?"
Those cold eyes studied me for a long moment, then he did something completely unexpected. He smiled. It was small, barely there, but it transformed his face from intimidating to... something else entirely.
"You have two choices," he said. "You can continue this ill-advised escape attempt, likely ending with O'Rourke's men finding you. Or..." He paused, his gaze intensifying. "You canexplain to me exactly what makes you valuable enough for O'Rourke to send his people into my territory."
His territory. The phrase sent a chill down my spine. I wasn't dealing with just any restaurant owner. This was something else entirely.
"And if I choose option two?" I asked, hating how small my voice sounded.
