Madison turned to walk away and I reached out to touch her arm. Just briefly. She flinched and I instantly dropped my hand.
“Hang on a second, Maddie—”
“It’s Madison. Or Agent Armiger.NotMaddie,” she snapped.
“Okay, sorry. Madison. I just wanted to let you know that I truly am sorry about everything that happened.” She wouldn’t look at me. She was staring somewhere over my left shoulder, her mouth set in a thin line. Her jaw rigid. Her shoulders stiff.
“I acted like an ass. I didn’t mean to hurt you—”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is entirely unnecessary.” Madison waved a hand toward the files she had dumped on my desk. “Agent Sanders said those came in for you from the New York field office.”
Her perfectly manicured fingernails were digging into her palms. She looked as though she were chewing glass. Damn, she was pissed.
I picked up the top file. “Thanks for bringing these over. Look, we have to work together. I really think we should talk—”
Madison’s eyes finally flashed in my direction. Rage and fire. “Yes. We have to work together. That doesn’t mean I have to assuage your guilt by accepting your piss-poor apology.”
I opened my mouth but then closed it again, deciding speaking wasn’t in my best interest at the moment.
“You are a jerk, Agent Kohler. A grade-A asshole. There’s no way you can whitewash that.” She turned on her heel and stomped off, her blond hair swishing angrily behind her.
There was a snicker behind me. Chaz clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Damn, you sure do know how to make enemies, Agent Kohler.” He came to stand in front of me, crossing his arms over his chest, watching me levelly. “I guess that’s what happens when you dip your wick in the coworker pool. That’s why it’s a big no-no.” He dropped his voice and leaned in toward me as if we were a couple of gossiping girls. “But tell me, Mason, are those tits real? ’Cause damn, those beauties are perky.”
Don’t react. Don’t punch him. That would be a really bad idea.
“Fuck off, Chaz,” I spit out, grabbing my keys and shoving past him before my fist got on a first-name basis with his face.
I had to shield my eyes once I was outside. The sun was bright. Too bright. I had been bent over a computer for hours and my back was cramped.
I stretched as I headed toward my car. Glancing at the time, I was shocked to see that it was already eight-thirty.
Shit!
Eight-thirty!
I was supposed to meet Hannah Whelan at the coffee shop this morning. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
I hopped into my car and revved the engine, peeling out of the parking lot as fast as I could.
In the craziness of the hacker bullshit, I had completely forgotten about my sort-of date. I was already late. Normally I stopped in at Nan’s Coffee Shop around 8:15. What if she didn’t wait around? I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t.
She was going to think I had stood her up.
Damn it.
I pulled into a tight spot between a tree and an oversized gas guzzler at the back of the parking lot in front of the coffee shop. I made a point not to hurry inside. I didn’t want to look like an idiot on top of being late.
The shop was busy, as usual. I glanced around, not seeing Hannah. Disappointment was sharp in my chest.
“I was beginning to think I had imagined your offer to buy me breakfast,” a teasing voice said from behind me.
I whipped around and knocked a to-go cup full of coffee out of her hand. It landed on the ground with a thud, the top flying off and coffee splashing her legs.
“Crap!” she shrieked, jumping backward.
“Fuck!” I yelled at the same time, grabbing a pile of napkins and dropping to my haunches in front of her, wiping the sticky liquid from her trousers.
“I am so sorry,” I groaned, blotting and dabbing the stains.
