‘Murdering people?By all means.’Basil flicks his leaves at me, or maybe it’s a breeze from the open window.‘Good luck, Cory.’
Grabbing my scope, I head to the front door and check my hair in the mirror.
Yikes.Wild as ever. Shrugging, I tiptoe out into thehallway.
After I check that my phone is receiving the video feed, I crouch down to slip the scope under Rhys’s door. “Ah, there he is.”
His hair is messed up, too. Wow, it looks very…sexy when it’s all out of that ponytail thing he makes with it. I forgot how long it is until it’s down like this. I like seeing his face when it’s in a bun, and I wonder if he’ll ever cut it.
Lost in conflicting feelings about my boyfriend’s hair, I must miss the ding of the elevator. Without warning, the sound of footsteps approaching startles me.
I yank the scope out from under the door, stick it in my pocket, and stand with my back against the hallway wall, trying to look casual.
A woman’s voice calls softly, “Hello?”
My heart leaps straight into my throat. For a split second, I worry she’s some floozy from a hook-up app. But she doesn’t look like she’s dressed for a date. She’s dressed like… Like Rhys. Dark pants, dark jacket, long blonde braid, and tired eyes.
Assassin!
“Are you here to hurt Rhys?” I ask, sharper than I mean to.
She looks startled. “No, I’m picking up something for…” Her eyes flicker with hesitation. “For Connor Quinlan.”
“Oh, his cousin!” I recognize the name from Rhys’s mail, and it eases the tension curling in my spine. I smile instantly, warmth replacing suspicion. “Hi. I’m Fallon.”
The woman with the braid blinks warily, like she’s still trying to figure me out. “Are you Rhys’s girlfriend?”
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. See, it’s obvious! The word feels right when it’s said out loud. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
“Great,” she says cheerfully. “Is he home?”
“Yes.”
Her next question catches me off guard. “Why are you out here?”
I lean closer, lowering my voice as if we’re sharing a secret. “He’s busy.”
She nods like she understands. “Oh, okay.”
“Wait here!” I say quickly and whirl around, ducking back into my apartment before she can ask more questions.
Inside, I pace once, then twice, then a third time to complete the cycle. My gaze snags on Cory. “We have a diversion. You’re being rehomed today.” Grabbing the pot, I hurry back out, blocking Cory’s objections.
Out in the hall, the woman is still there, patient and polite.
“Here.” I thrust the plant into her hands. “Put this in his kitchen, please.”
She stares down at it, sniffs, then looks back at me, blinking like she’s not sure what to make of me. “What is this?”
“It’s coriander,” I explain, maybe too proudly. “The seeds are toasted and used in soups. I grow them and other herbs in the community garden around the corner.”
Her eyes flick up, curious, like she’s never met someone who gardens before.
“Um, okay.” She takes the plant and holds it carefully.
“See ya!” I say, giving her a quick wave before slipping back into my apartment.
Once the door clicks shut, I exhale and smile, imagining Rhys’s face lighting up when he smells Cory’s fresh, herby scent. He will hopefully spend the rest of the day thinking of me.
