He turns and walks away, leaving me shattered in the garden like it was just another job completed.
Here I am, alone in the garden with the scent of jasmine and the taste of rejection.
I should have known better. He can't ask me out to just fuck me, that's what he "can't do to me." What if I wanted to? I created a fantasy where none existed.
The tears come freely now, and I let them. Maybe I'm crying because Sage got her fairy tale tonight, and for a moment, I thought maybe I could have mine too.
I should have known better. Should have stayed practical instead of letting myself hope for something as rare as what Sage and Maks found.
Well, there's no way in hell I'm going back into the reception. Not with mascara streaking down my cheeks to have him see me like that.
I follow a different stone path that leads away from the gardens, toward the parking area. My heels click against the solid path as I walk. I need to compose myself before I have to face Cillian and ask him to drive me home.
I stop for a moment, wiping my face. Something catches my eye, a shadow in one of the parked cars that looks like a man's silhouette. But when I look again, there's nothing there.
Probably just my imagination, or maybe there's someone. Right now, I don't give a fuck.
I start walking again, but voices drift from somewhere ahead, on the other side of the fence separating this part of the parking lot. I recognize one of them immediately, Shane, with his distinctive, strong voice.
"I'll see you at the hotel lobby later tonight?"
The other voice is also familiar. "Yeah, call when you're ready."
These guys are always making deals, even at weddings. Information, favors, connections, the currency of our world never stops flowing, no matter the occasion.
I keep walking along the stone path, the voices from the other side of the fence growing clearer as Shane and his companion move in the same direction I am.
The path curves, bringing me closer to where the fence ends and opens into the main parking area. That's when I see them clearly for the first time.
Shane walks with his usual confident stride, but the man beside him makes me pause. I know that face from the files I shouldn't have accessed.
Judge Morrison.
He's working on the new Chicago assignment. The same assignment that's been taking Anton to Chicago regularly for months.
Why is he here in New York?
Morrison exists on the periphery of our world, one of those floating figures who broker whispered conversations and handshake agreements in dark corners. The kind of man who facilitates deals but never officially knows anything.
What I couldn't figure out from the digital breadcrumbs was his exact role.
"Tonight?" Morrison says.
"You have everything we discussed?"
"Documentation's ready. Clean as we agreed."
Morrison glances around the parking area, his gaze lands on me, and his expression shifts instantly.
Without a word to Shane, he turns abruptly and starts walking back the way they came.
Shane continues walking toward me, his expression shifting from business mode to something more personal. The concerned protector, a look I've seen him wear before when dealing with family members.
"Ms. Quinn." His voice carries warmth mixed with surprise. "Didn't expect to see you out here. Everything alright?"
I pause, discreetly wiping at my cheeks to ensure no mascara streaks remain. "Just needed some air. The reception was getting a bit overwhelming."
His dark eyes study my face. "I could take you back to the hotel if you're ready to call it a night."
