I probably shouldn’t be here. I definitely shouldn’t be sitting in her waiting room watching her face cycle through surprise, confusion, and what might be relief. But showing up unannounced was better than the alternative.
Which was what, exactly? Lurking outside her office building? Following her home?
“You’re not going to LA for me,” Tatiana had said somewhere over Nevada, her pale eyes cutting straight through my bullshit. “So stop pretending this is about professional oversight and tell me who she is.”
I’d lasted another hour before I cracked.
Now Nina’s standing in her doorway, one hand still on the handle, looking like she can’t decide whether I’m a crisis or a complication. Her hair is pulled back, a few dark curls escaping around her face. She’s wearing a cream-colored blouse and a charcoal skirt that hits just below her knees—professional, controlled, but soft enough to remind me of the woman I had in my arms two weeks ago.
“Hello, Nina,” I say, because someone has to fill the silence.
“Chris.” Her voice is steady, but I know her well enough to hear the tremor underneath. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I know. I’m sorry for the surprise. Can we talk?”
She glances toward the reception desk where Darius is suddenly very interested in his computer screen, then back to me. I can see her calculating—the surveillance, the professional boundaries, the fact that this is her workplace and I’m disrupting her carefully constructed day.
“I’m between appointments,” she says carefully. “A few minutes.”
She steps back, gesturing me into her office. The door closes behind us with a soft click, and suddenly we’re alone. Not really—I can sense the weight of the recording equipment, the invisible eyes watching every move we make—but alone enough that the air between us shifts.
The office smells like her. Bergamot and cinnamon. There are books on the shelves—some I recognize from her apartment in Denver, others that must be new. I try to reconcile the Nina from the wedding and the fresh college graduate Nina with the accomplished woman standing here now. The room is likely just set dressing for the op, but she’s real, and seems very much in her element.
I don’t know what I expected. Maybe someone who needed rescuing. Instead I’m looking at a woman who doesn’t need a goddamn thing from me, and that’s worse.
She doesn’t sit. Neither do I.
“How are you?” I ask, because it’s the only question safe enough to express that I care without demanding specifics. But it’s nothing compared to what I want to know. Not here.
“I’m well.” She folds her arms across her chest, a barrier that wasn’t there the last time we were together. “Working. Settling in.”
“Good. That’s good.”
Christ, I sound like an idiot.
She’s watching me, reading every micro-expression. I can see her shifting into therapist mode, the way she tilts her head slightly, the softening around her mouth that says she’s about to ask the kind of question that strips away all pretense.
“Chris,” she says gently. “Why are you here?”
How do I answer that? How do I tell her that I’ve been falling apart since I left her bed—left both of them sleeping in that tangle of sheets while I dressed in the dark and disappeared? That I manipulated an entire operation just to get in the same room as her?
I can’t. Not here. Not with them listening.
“Work,” I say instead. “I’m handling a new asset. Tatiana Petrov. She’s your next appointment.”
Her lips tighten, her gaze narrows. It isn’t surprise—she was expecting Petrov.
“I see.” She glances toward the door, then back to me. “That’s... unexpected.”
“Last-minute assignment change.”
“Is she...” Nina pauses, choosing her words carefully. “Should I be concerned about anything specific?”
Yes. She’s dangerous. She’s unpredictable. I recruited her out of Corluka’s organization six months ago—my first real win as a case officer—and she’s been testing my limits ever since. She spent forty minutes on the plane reading me like a case file, and now she knows more about my psychological state than my own handler ever did.
“She’s complex,” I say. “Trauma history. Trust issues. She’s been cooperative so far, but that could change.”
Nina nods, filing the information away. “I’ll be careful.”
