Page 63 of Keller

Leah's expression softens. "That's a lot of likes."

"It's inconvenient."

"Since when is liking someone inconvenient?"

Since I started reviewing his family's shipping records.

I trace the rim of my mug with one finger. I honestly don't know how to answer that. I've already said way too much out loud for plausible deniability.

"Have you told him what you do? Like, specifically?"

"He knows I work for the federal government and that I conduct audits and compliance."

"But have you told him what you're actually working on right now?"

"Hell no. Of course not."

"Quinn."

"Discretion is part of my job. You know that. I cannot discuss active assignments with civilians."

"I feel so special." Leah's voice flattens. "But let's be serious. Is he an active assignment? Or, are you just creating reasons not to let yourself go there?"

"His family's company is absolutely the center of this assignment."

"Didn't you say he doesn't work for the company?"

"Yes." I think about the tiny glimmer of hope from this morning, that maybe Stone Intermodal isn't bad at all. God, I want to hang onto that and ride it into the sunset.

Or, maybe ride him. Goddamn it, Quinn. Stop it.

Leah sips her latte. She's got that look. I just gave her all the ammo she needs to blow up my current reasoning to keep him at arm's length.

"Could you walk away? If the data pointed somewhere real?"

The question hangs between us. Outside, a streetcar rattles past, and I chew on my bottom lip.

Could I?

I think about Keller's hands on my waist. The way he looked at me in the theater, checking my reaction to a scene instead of the screen. The coffee he made me without asking. The run in the park.

Leah sighs. She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.

"I just want you to live life, Quinny. Work isn't what it's all about. The world isn't black and white, right and wrong. You know that, I know you do. You've got to get out of your own way."

"I know."

"I should get back." I pull my hand free and reach for my bag. "I've got a meeting at one with Marcus, and I have to get some stuff together I pulled this morning."

"Quinn."

"Yeah?"

"Let go. Okay?"

I nod as she stands and we both hug. God, do I want to. But I can't let go of the voice that tells me I need to remain clear-headed, to keep a boundary between us.

"Speaking of, don't let them crush you at work. We both need to have a better work-life balance, don't we?"