“Come on, your shed-free, allergy-friendly dog probably has a Mac too.”
Gabby laughed. Fair enough.
“Go to the Finder. Do you know what the flash drive is called, Kyle?”
“BunBot,” Kyle called from the background.
While Gabby looked, Shamika said, “After all this, you should definitely bring that man by. At least slip him my number.”
“Uh—”
“Don’t tell me. You’re already after him. Of course you are.” Shamika paused her narration to sigh. “I don’t blame you, but…”
When Gabby finally copied everything, she ejected and pocketed the flash drives and yelled thanks to Kyle and Shamika, who was still conjecturing about her relationship with Markus.
First mission accomplished, she flipped on her earpiece and camera. “Hi, Markus. I’m here.”
“Feeling better?”
“Much,” she said, still a little breathless, not from intestinal distress but from tech anxiety.
At the end of the day, Gabby shut her computer down, neatened her desk, and grabbed her lunch box from the fridge. The Tupperware with the flaming meat loaf was in the dumpster out back, probably where it belonged in the first place. It was too bad about the Tupperware, though. It had been a really nice, medium-sized container that fit in her lunch box. Tupperware with a lid that hadn’t disappeared into the back of the cabinet never to be found again—that was as hard to come by as a pair of matching socks.
Now, off to the EOD to hand off the flash drive. Compared to Smirnov, the EOD was nothing. She might as well be heading tothe petting zoo. And to think she’d been in a near panic over them just a week ago.
In the car, she called Granny. “Want me to pick up dinner on the way back? I have two errands that will hopefully be quick. I was thinking sushi.”
“No. Prepare yourself. I cooked.”
“Mmm. Really?” Granny was a notoriously bad cook. It was a proud family tradition, along with red hair and, apparently, gambling.
“Yep. I’m still trying to impress Burt. We’re in the beginning of this relationship. He doesn’t know I don’t do housework yet.”
Gabby rolled her eyes. She was eighty and acting like a teenager. And who in the hell needed to impress Burt. BURT!
“He used to be a doctor, you know.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“No, he did a lot of side work at the home.”
“So what’d you make?”
“A frozen lasagna, but he won’t know the difference. Your taste buds start to go at a certain age. He probably only has a few years left.”
“Lucas can’t eat lasagna.”
Granny groaned. “Gabby, that boy is not allergic to everything you think he is. I think you should get him retested or just let him try a few things.”
Gabby released a breath. Granny was half-right. Lucas might have grown out of some of these allergies. It was probably time to reintroduce a few things before he was thirty-five. If she could take down the Mafia, she could face Lucas eating a baked good made with eggs. Maybe. The doctor had mentioned a few times she could let him try it in the ER parking lot to alleviate heranxiety. She’d always responded, “If he has to eat it at the ER, he doesn’t need it at all!”
“Let’s get through Saturday before we change anything, okay?”
“Okay, honey.”
Like it was nothing, Gabby went through the biometric screening and wandered in as casually as if it had still been International Rug. Actually, more casually. International Rug used to have some really good sales.
Inside the EOD, everyone was waiting. Valentina and Alice were in the conference room when she arrived. She planned to hand the flash drive over, say thanks, and keep it cool.
