Chuckling, I cover my cheeks with my hands. “I’m serious. I don’t know what to do. I can’t date three men at once. I’m not a cheater.”
Mrs. Tanaka reads the uneasiness on my face and reaches for my hand in comfort. “Savannah, first, calm down. Second, you never know what can come of life’s opportunities. Don’t dismiss them so quickly. And third, just because it isn’t common doesn’t mean it’s bad. Relationships come in many shapesandsizes.”
Mouth turns into a frown. What does she mean by sizes?
Did she mean…? No. Not possible.
The door of Taki Yuki bursts open, and in steps a man I have avoided at all costs for the last eleven years.
Agent Travis Huntley.
He’s wearing a suit just like the last time I saw him. His hair is neatly combed, and his square jaw is tight. His lips are pressed into a tight line as his enraged eyes search the restaurant. When he spots me, he marches right for me.
Dropping Mrs. Tanaka’s hand, I sit up straight. I won’t let him intimidate me. I won’t cower like I did when I was an eighteen-year-old girl.
Behind Huntley, another man follows closely. He’s classically attractive with black curly hair, high cheekbones, and clear, bright eyes. The stubble on his face adds to his rough, masculineenergy. But the fact that he’s with Huntley negates his good looks.
Mrs. Tanaka notices the shift in my mood and mirrors my posture.
Huntley stares me down as he approaches my table. “Savannah Bartlett,” he says by way of greeting.
He knows I changed my name, so I acknowledge him with the same respect he shows me. “Travis.”
“It’s Agent Huntley,” he corrects me through gritted teeth.
“Not Special Agent?” I shouldn’t purposely provoke him, but I can’t help it. My fingers itch to hold my knife and show him just how unafraid I am.
Mrs. Tanaka looks at me like I’m crazy for antagonizing the hot-headed FBI agent.
The man next to Huntley coughs, seeming to cover a laugh if the repressed smirk is anything to go by. When he realizes my attention is on him, he extends his hand to me. “Agent Roman Cassidy, ma’am.”
“Nice to meet you,” I respond instinctively. At least he’s nicer than Huntley.
“We have some questions for you,” Huntley interjects.
“That’s nice.” I shrug a shoulder, appearing indifferent to the request, but I can feel a hard, quick pulse in my throat.
Do they know what I’ve done? Are they here to arrest me?
“Do we need to have this conversation at 26 Fed?” Huntley threatens, leaning into my space with his chest puffed up.
Mrs. Tanaka whips out her phone, pointing the camera at Huntley.
He whirls on her, the vein in his neck pulsing. “What the hell are you doing?”
Agent Cassidy steps forward, placing a hand on Huntley’s shoulder. “How about we calm down.”
“Shut up, Cassidy,” Huntley barks back at him.
Cassidy lifts his hands, moving back. “Your funeral, man.”
Huntley points a finger at Mrs. Tanaka. “Put that phone away or I’m going to escort you out of here in handcuffs. Maybe a night in a holding cell will teach you some respect.”
“What’s going on here?” Mr. Tanaka questions as he walks out of the kitchen.
My mouth goes dry, and my heart races in fear of how Huntley will react. Before things can spiral out of control, I jump to my feet. “I’ll go with you. Take me to the field office, and I’ll answer your questions there.”
The Tanaka’s are good people and don’t deserve to take on the brunt of Huntley’s temper in my defense.
