Hank huffed a breath. “Carmen wants to talk to Bree,” he told the guys. “Coffee in the lobby.”
Brian arched a brow. “That should be interesting.”
“You okay with that?” Colby asked.
He thought about the guilt that had pinched Bree’s voice when she admitted how she’d broken the plan. About the loyalty in Carmen’s eyes every time Heidi snapped her fingers.
“That’s between them,” Hank said. “But I’m not letting Bree navigate it completely alone.”
He texted back.
Hank: I’ve gotta grab something from the pit, then I’ll hover somewhere nearby. If you want an extraction, text me the word ‘dragonslayer.’
Bree: You’re ridiculous.
Bree: Thank you.
He slipped the phone away, feeling a warmth settle under his sternum that had nothing to do with the afternoon sun.
“Where are we headed after a beer or two?” Brian asked as they walked toward the stairs.
Hank glanced at his watch. Plenty of daylight left. Enough time to do something that didn’t involve legal threats or debrief forms.
“Bay Street,” he said. “I promised Bree a field trip.”
Colby’s eyes lit. “We're going to look at the warehouse.”
“Yeah,” Hank said. “Time to see if this dream has actual dimensions.”
Brian clapped him on the shoulder. “About damn time.”
From his spot at the far end of the lobby café, Hank watched Bree approach Carmen’s table.
They met halfway between the coffee line and the seating area. Carmen stood when she saw Bree, tension visible even from here; shoulders high; hands wrapped around a paper cup like it might bolt. Bree’s chin lifted a fraction, her steps steady.
Good girl, he thought. Walk straight in.
They hugged, awkward at first; then Carmen held on a beat longer. Hank couldn’t hear the words over the low murmur of other conversations and the hiss of the espresso machine, but he could read the body language well enough.
Carmen talked fast, hands moving. Apology. Explanation. Some version of I didn’t know.
Bree listened, arms folded loosely across her chest; guarded but not closed. When she spoke, Carmen’s shoulders sagged with what looked like relief. A minute later, Bree laid a hand over Carmen’s and smiled, small and real.
He let himself exhale.
“Looks like that went okay,” Brian said, sliding a bottle of beer onto Hank’s table and dropping into the opposite chair. “Nobody threw a scone.”
“Low bar,” Hank said. “I’ll take it.”
Colby set a bowl of popcorn between them. “Carmen is giving up the red and black.”
Hank watched as Carmen scrubbed her hands over her face and laughed at something Bree said. “She’ll never give up, Heidi,” he said. “They’re family. But I think she stopped pretending the Dragons are misunderstood underdogs.
“Good,” Brian muttered. “I’ve got enough to worry about without wondering which side the PR team is on.”
A few minutes later, Bree and Carmen stood. Carmen hugged her again, more solid this time, then headed toward the elevators. Bree scanned the room, found Hank, and walked over.
“You survived,” he said, standing to meet her.
