“I do actually.”
When the waitress came by, he said, “I’ll have one of whatshe’s having,” pointing at Gabby’s meal without even asking what it was.
“I said I want to eat alone,” Gabby reiterated. She didn’t need to have lunch with a guy who very well might be reporting her activities to Smirnov. “Isn’t this dangerous anyway? What if someone sees us together?”
Markus shrugged. “No one followed us. I’ve been watching. And this place is way out of the way. Not to mention, empty.” It was them and one waitress. With the waitress out of earshot, he leaned in closer. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that.”
She didn’t respond, so he went on. “You’re doing really well, and I don’t know, it feels like we’ve been working together forever. I forgot for a minute that you aren’t a seasoned agent like Darcy.”
That seemed like a line of BS to her. “Half an hour ago, I fell on my ass onto a crème-filled donut while I was trying to be sneaky. I think my limitations are pretty in-your-face.”
He shook his head in the negative. “It wasafteryou tried to be sneaky. And you know it just made you look like you didn’t know what you were doing, like any old ditzy office assistant.”
She looked inept because she was. “I’m not going to forgive you that easily. Do you know how stressful this is? I am worried constantly about my kids. I have arranged for someone different to pick them up from school every day. Kyle has missed all the lessons I’ve paid for, and no one else seems to be worried enough about Lucas’s allergies.” She looked at him. “I am pinch-hitting here. This isn’t even my job.”
“I know. I don’t need to be putting any more pressure on you than you already have.” He opened a pair of chopsticks and startedclicking them together nervously, not normal for Markus. “Me snapping was more about me than you.”
Every word tempered the anger she was trying to hang on to. If she could just feel more indifferent toward him, it would be easier when it turned out he was the mole. Those butterflies she felt when he walked into a room, the rush of adrenaline when he texted her good night, that was what she didn’t need. Staying mad was the key.
He blew out a breath. “I didn’t tell you before, but Darcy and I were close.”
She looked up, softening against her better judgment. “I’m sorry.”
He looked down at the table, rearranging the little bowls of hot sauce, probably just for something to do with his hands. Markus never fidgeted. “We were partners for a couple of years.” His voice breaking up, he said, “She was my best friend. She was there for me through the divorce with Val, sort of like your friend Justin.” He shook his head.
She reached across the table but stopped short of putting her hand on his. She picked up an errant straw wrapper like she had meant to. “I didn’t know.”
“We were in the field together for years. When you are facing life-or-death situations, you get close fast. My therapist said it’s called trauma bonding.”
She knew what he meant. The closeness developing between the two of them—was it just trauma or was it something more?
His eyes flicked up, a flash of warm honey brown. “It’s not like that bond happens with everyone, but when you click with someone, it puts your relationship into overdrive.”
Warmth flashed through her. He was talking about Darcy but also them.
“I want to be in the field. I want to take out her killer myself.”
“Why didn’t they just plant you as a security guard or something?Youcould break into the safe.”
He huffed out a sad laugh. “I would, but Alice knew how torn up I was. She took me off field duty until psych clears me.”
“Oh,” she said with just a hint of surprise, not because she was shocked but because Markus seemed so together, so stable. “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “I’m fine.”
Nothing said “not fine” like “I’m fine.”
After their curry was gone, Markus said, “All I want is to bring Darcy’s killer to justice.”
She gave a single nod. “I’ll do my best.”
The waitress interrupted. “One check or two?” She lingered on “one” while looking directly at Markus. He said, “Sure.”
Gabby raised an eyebrow. “Work’s paying, right?”
“Nah, it’s on me.”
As he signed the receipt, a secret smiled played across his features. “Compartmentalize this—that might be your tagline.”
