In the three years she’d worked at BKI, he’d only known her to go on a handful of dates. And he’dneverseen her looking so…wistful.
“Who is this lucky devil?” His tone came out more demanding than he’d intended. “Have you run a background check on him?”
“Don’t need to.” She shook her head. “He’s Senator McClean’s son. He’s been vetted up one side and down the other.”
“A politician’s kid.” He suddenly felt altogether unsettled. “So y’all got a lot in common.”
“That’s what the date is for. To see if we do. But that’s my point.” She lifted a hand and let it fall. “You should try the poetry section at the library. You might just have your own meet-cute.”
“Meet what?” He frowned, trying desperately to remember if he’d ever seen photos of Senator McClean or his son.
“Meet-cute,” she explained. “It’s that moment in the books where the two lovers meet and sparks fly.”
So sparks flew with McClean Junior, eh?
A muscle twitched under his right eye and his fingers automatically sought the cool comfort of his harmonica.
When it was clear he had nothing savvy or sarcastic to say about meet-cutes, she turned toward the rolling Craftsman toolbox concealing the button to the Bat Cave. “You think that’s enough time alone for them?”
“Depends.” He shrugged. “Is our aim to give them enough time to admit they’re hot for each other? Or is our aim to give them enough time toacton things?”
“I think they’re more than hot for each other.” Her expression turned contemplative. “I think they might actually be in love.”
“Heaven help them then. Every love story becomes a tragedy if ya wait long enough.”
“God, that’s a depressing thought.”
“Oh, I don’t know. There’s some comfort in it too, I reckon.”
“How do you figure that?”
“If ya go into love knowin’ that, in the end, there’s bound to be heartbreak, ya appreciate all the good times. Ya learn to revel in the happiness.”
“Yeah. But then those good times and that happiness are tainted by the certainty of future pain, aren’t they?”
“I don’t think so. Ya know ya got an expiration date, right? We all do. Does that taint the life you’re livin’ now? Or does it make ya want to wring every last bit of joy out of every day?”
She frowned as she considered his point. “Actually, I think most people just stumble along without giving it much thought.”
“And that’s a cryin’ shame. I’d rather look my inevitable end square in the eye and acknowledge its presence so I can truly enjoy the journey to get there.”
She was quiet for a while after that. Eventually she shook her head. “I like you better when you’re slinging bullshit and man-whoring your way through a quarter of the population of Chicago.”
“Just a quarter?” He chuckled. “Reckon I better up my game.” When she rolled her eyes, he hitched his chin toward the rolling toolbox. “Go let our wayward compatriots out of the hole. I need to head upstairs to check on something.”
“Check on what?” she called to his back because he’d already turned toward the stairs.
“None of your business, nosy,” he admonished, flashing a grin over his shoulder.
The instant he turned back, however, his smile faded.
He needed to google Senator McClean.
Or rather, Senator McClean’s son.
17
Hannah’s stomach was a mass of cramps. And it was only partly due to the federal agents who’d come knocking at BKI’s door.
