“What do you want to eat?” he asked as we boarded the train.
“Nothing too spicy or greasy, please. Everything else is fine.” I shrugged as I climbed the steps behind him, enjoying the view of just how his jeans hugged his ass scrumptiously and walked into his personal train behind him. Neither one of us moved as we gazed at the back of the train. I whispered, “What is she doing here?”
Wolfe shook his head of gray hair, evaluating her.
Poppy sat in the far back, with her forehead pressed to the window and peering out into the dark, not even noticing we had boarded. Her shoulders sagged, and her cheeks were splotchy with color. If I had to guess, her brown eyes were more than likely filled with tears.
Poppy may be a soldier in the Corporate Army, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have feelings of her own. She wore her heart on her sleeve to everyone she cared about—that much I had already learned.
She loved. And she loved fiercely.
Wolfe cleared his throat loudly, catching her attention.
Startled, red-rimmed eyes stared right at us. “Sorry. I just wanted to get away for a while. I couldn’t handle all of that in there.”
Wolfe’s smile was small, sad like her. “If I didn’t want anyone to enter my train, I would have closed the door. You’re always welcome, Poppy.”
I asked carefully, “If you want to get out of here, we’re going to get some dinner. Do you want to go with us?”
It seemed like the right thing to ask.
Wolfe’s little finger grazed mine in appreciation, linking his single digit with mine down by our sides, hidden from Poppy’s view.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to intrude.” Clearly torn, she didn’t want to go back to the party. “I came with Theron. He won’t want to leave until the party’s over.”
“Come with us. We’ll go wherever you want. Or we could drop you off at your home if that’s what you prefer,” Wolfe offered.
“I don’t want to go home yet. The house is too big,” she stated bluntly. “If you really don’t mind, I’ll eat with you two, even though I’m not all that hungry.”
“Sure,” I answered. I could be kind. Every so often. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Not really, but I could be there for her.
I had shot her in the head.
And she was grief-stricken.
My heart wasn’t completely black.
* * *
I raised my third beer and drank heavily. This was the most depressing dinner I had ever encountered. I hadn’t known Cassander, but after an hour of Wolfe and Poppy recounting story after story about him, I felt like I’d known the silver fox on too many levels to explain.
And the tears. They weren’t stopping.
Not mine. No. I almost felt guilty my eyes were dry.
Poor Poppy’s cheeks were like a river of pain.
Wolfe had swiped at his eyes once or twice.
I didn’t have anything helpful to say, but I did have questions about his funeral—if it was or wasn’t going to happen. I wished it were the right time to ask. This definitely wasn’t it since half the time they still spoke in the present tense about him, then fumbled around and corrected themselves.
Depressing. As. Fuck.
Joshua Striker showing up at our table made it even worse. He silently slid into the only remaining seat at our table. Wolfe and Poppy didn’t even notice; they were so involved with their own tales.
I choked on my beer and set the bottle down quickly, kicking Wolfe’s leg hard under the table. “Sorry to interrupt, but we have company. You might want to pay attention.”
