They tended to do that, but they did also own the place, so it was technically within their right. Saffi kept meaning to lock the door, but they always brought food with them, so she didn’t mind forgetting every once in a while.
“The case is more interesting than you thought it would be, isn’t it?” Taylor asked, setting a take-out container on the desk in front of her and sounding entirely too happy with himself.
A quick glance up from her monitor alerted her to motion. Taylor had left the door open behind him—something that brought up a flare of annoyance so old it could only be described as nostalgic. Standing in the open doorway were the interns from before, but they ducked away as soon as they noticed Saffi looking at them.
“They still can’t believe we actually know you,” Taylor said, exasperated.
“They’re fans,” Andino explained, somehow making it sound like an insult.
“Of me?” Saffi asked.
“You’re somewhat of a minor celebrity in the PI community,” Taylor said. “Especially with college students. Apparently, they talk about your cases in class sometimes.”
It was the first time Saffi was hearing about this. She’d made headlines before, but if it was regarding her PI work, it was always some variation ofInvestigator Uncovers Deadly Secret.Her name, if it showed up at all, was always toward the end of the articles. Unless it was regarding her father’s career in politics, which she hadn’t been connected to in five years.
“Then I better wrap this one up quick,” Saffi muttered. “Give the professors enough time to write it into their lesson plans for next year.”
The thought of her name being printed alongside Dimple Kapoor’s almost made her laugh. Surely an actress would hate having to share the spotlight like that.
“I knew we shouldn’t have said anything,” Andino sighed, flopping gracelessly onto a brown armchair. “Your ego is inflated enough as is.”
“I’ve already narrowed it down to one suspect. It’s only a matter of proving it now,” Saffi replied, waving her hand flippantly.
When the resulting silence stretched on for too long, she looked up again, but her mood quickly diminished. She’d said it lightheartedly, but both men looked equally taken aback. Something like insecurity, disbelief, and irritation flickered in both of their faces. As though she’d done them a disservice by being good at her job. Cultures differed as did climates, but jealousy and envy were the same in every language.
It wasn’t, however, supposed to be a concept in the language the three of them shared. Perhaps because they’d always been a team. Now it felt stilted to discuss the case as a group, none of them quite sure where they fit into the conversation. There was a disconnect, as where Saffi had solved dozens of murder cases worldwide, Andino and Taylor were extremely out of their depth. All three of them expected the other two to be exactly on their level, simply because that was the way it had always been. But that assumption meant they were rarely on the same page. Saffi’s mind was used to jumping five paces ahead, and she found herself growing irritated at having to explain her thought process several times a day. Andino and Taylor were just as agitated that she moved so quickly, leaving them behind when the case was theirs to begin with.
“Who?” Taylor challenged.
“Doesn’t matter.” She was fixed on her screen, but she could feel them exchanging looks with each other on the other side of her desk.
“It kind of does,” Andino replied. “I’d argue it matters a lot.”
“You know what?” Saffi said. “I think I can handle the case from here. I work better alone. Besides, don’t you two have other things to worry about, running a business and all?”
She could’ve heard a pin drop.
“Oh.” Taylor’s tone had her almost regretting she’d said anything at all. She had no trouble keeping contacts, solving cases, but there wasn’t a relationship in her life that hadn’t gone down in flames; platonic, familial, or romantic. It was always easier to leave someone behind than to face the inevitable weight of their disappointment. “I guess that makes sense. You are much better equipped to handle it.”
“But—” Andino started before cutting himself off.
Curious, Saffi looked up from her computer just in time to see the warning look Taylor had shot him.
“I just thought…Never mind.”
His gaze flicked to Taylor, then to Saffi, and then back to Taylor, before turning away and marching out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him.
“What’s his issue?” Saffi asked.
Taylor shook his head. “You know how he is.”
His disappointment reminded Saffi too much of her father’s. She’d never been able to handle being on the receiving end of it for long. “Minus ten for excessive arrogance,” she said in an attempt to diffuse the tension.
Andino’s coined phrase. Back in college, it had irritated the two of them beyond belief. Now it brought a fondness to Taylor’s expression.
Saffi attributed the start of their friendship to one late night at the library during finals week, after almost an entire semester of competing to give the best answers in class. That night, Taylor had wordlessly slipped into a seat beside Saffi and asked for help with calculus. Her annoyance quickly diminished when she realized he could help her with the introductory science class she’d been forced into. Both of them struggled with English, however, which was why whenTaylor began inviting Andino to sit with them, Saffi didn’t complain. Even if he did writeminus ten for excessive arroganceat the top of all of their papers after proofreading them.
In a way, they mellowed one another out. It just made sense to stick together. And while Saffi had come to prefer working alone, she knew that when it came time to leave again, she would miss picking fights with Andino and taking peaceful walks with Taylor after lunch. Moments of domesticity were rare in the life of a private investigator.
