Bryn furrowed her brows, sure that there was a message in the drinkware switch she couldn’t decipher. “Okay…”
Sunglasses hiding her eyes and face unmoving, Vivian added, “You talk.” Her tone was clipped and cool. “You get distracted and then you make a face when it’s lukewarm. It’s...” She paused, jaw clenched like she was biting back a wave of nausea. “It’s distracting.”
Bryn went still. It was such a small thing. Nothing, really. But Vivian had been watching her. Watching her closely enough to notice something so small. What the hell column did she sort that into?
Banana choked down and tea finished, Vivian stood. “Let’s get to work,” she said, looking no less miserable.
Work, Bryn reminded herself. Work was what she was here to do, not moon over a woman so far out of her league the distance was measured in light-years.
The moment they stepped into the booth, Vivian snapped into focus. If it weren’t for her unusually irritated eyes and slightly pale complexion, Bryn wouldn’t know Vivian felt like death warmed over.
But the second the headphones slid over Vivian’s ears, the transformation was absolute. The slump in her shoulders vanished, replaced by a spine of steel. It was like she didn’t just ignore her headache, she forced her pain to yield. It was a terrifyingly beautiful display of discipline that made the booth shrink and turn sweltering.
Vivian’s captivating eyes met hers. She slipped into Jo’s voice, dark and husky, when she asked, “Ready?”
Bryn almost replied with a flustered,for what, but she nodded instead.
When Bryn realized she was in trouble, it was already too late. She was in quicksand and afraid of making her drowning worse.
It hit her not with a flutter, but with the shock of a head-on collision. It punched the air right out of her lungs, leaving her ribs aching as if a seatbelt had just locked tight against her chest. Her pulse roared in her ears. The sudden, jarring halt of momentum.
She looked at Vivian and knew. Knew with absolute and unfortunate certainty. That she hadn’t survived the crash.
ChapterFourteen
Recording had taken longerthan Vivian hoped. Given that her morning began with Athena splitting her skull open to emerge fully armored and screaming, it was a miracle they’d finished at all.
If she hadn’t needed to stop so often to breathe through the nausea and chug water, they’d have finished by six. But of course, working on the weekend wasn’t the only rule she’d put herself in a position to break.
It was nearly nine when Bryn popped open the booth door to let in a rush of cool air. Vivian stayed at her laptop, eyes fixed on the progress bar while she sent Harvey the remaining files. For the second time, she’d finishedMagpies.
Part of Vivian was annoyed that it felt different this time. That Bryn had been a perfect Maggie. That she’d brought a magic to the project that defied explanation. Brought that intangibleitVivian begrudgingly felt like gravity pressing down on her, slowly, incessantly, undeniably.
“Here,” Bryn said while Vivian was still at the computer ensuring the file transfer finished.
When Vivian glanced at the door, there was Bryn, eyes bright and features soft and expression expectant. Vivian was all but ensnared by the shape of Bryn’s mouth. A mouth made for effortless smiles and nervous chatter. She forced her attention to the small plate Bryn carried.
“What’s that?”
Bryn’s gaze shot down and quickly back to Vivian. Wry grin firmly in place, she replied, “Well, in some cultures they represent beauty, in others knowledge, and”—she quirked an unplucked brow—“we can’t forget temptation.” She moistened her lips, aura glowing with self-satisfaction. “Here, we just call them apples.” She stepped into the sound booth, offering her the plate of sliced fruit. “It’ll hydrate your mouth.” Bryn’s cheeks flushed pink, igniting her freckles when she tossed Vivian’s words from a lifetime ago back at her. “Quiets your stomach, too.”
God, Bryn was pleased with herself. The display should’ve been irritating, but it triggered a foreign chemical reaction. A flutter. A squeeze.
“Cute,” Vivian replied becausethank yousounded so small. Too small to convey the pathetic truth that Vivian couldn’t remember the last time anyone fed her without being contractually obligated to do so. Bryn had done it three times now.
It was such a stupid, small thing. Sliced fruit on a salad plate. But Vivian couldn’t stop staring at it. The kindness was unbearable. A move she couldn’t counter. And yet, she couldn’t help but lament that there wouldn’t be a fourth time.
An unnerving, aching heat bloomed in Vivian’s chest and clawed toward her throat. She was going to reach for the plate when her phone, mercifully, rang. Whatever had made her want to accept Bryn’s offer, it couldn’t happen again.
“Harvey?” she muttered before answering.
“I know, I know. We’re outside business hours, but I figure if you’re emailing me while working overtime, I can repay the favor.”
Vivian turned immediately dubious. A more familiar emotion than whatever the fuck had just taken over her body. “Favor?”
Harvey chuckled like a little kid trying and failing to conceal himself during hide-and-go-seek. “Call the poor schlub working the security gate and tell ’em you’re ready for the delivery.”
“Harvey, what are you?—”
