What did I tell him? The truth? That I didn't think Quentin was guilty? That I was falling for him? That Silvio was breathing down my neck and threatening to take over?
I typed:Good. Making progress. Building trust.
Two weeks left. Don't disappoint me.
I won't.
I set down the phone instead of throwing it across the room. Didn’t anyone in my family believe in me? Did they think I wasn’t good enough to do my job? Sure, I’d never done anything like this before, but did they have to keep shoving it in my face?
Maybe I’d just tell Quentin the truth. It couldn’t be any worse than what I was going through now. He’d tell me it wasn’t him. He’d help me find the truth. He had resources I could only dream of.
Could I risk it?
Probably not.
Could I let Silvio kill him?
No.
I’d just have to start snooping and hope I didn’t get caught.
∞∞∞
Sunday afternoon, I was at a coffee shop when my phone rang.
Quentin.
My heart jumped.
Stay calm. Professional.
"Hello?"
"Julia. Hi." He sounded... different. Careful. "Sorry to bother you on the weekend."
"It's no bother. What's up?"
"I was just... reviewing some files. Had a question about the vendor contracts. Barbara's notes are a bit cryptic."
It was a reasonable excuse. Probably even true.
But something in his voice felt off.
"I can help with that," I said. "Want me to come in?"
"No. No, that's not necessary. I was just..." He paused. "Are you busy right now?"
"Just catching up on some reading. Why?"
"I was thinking about your offer. To cook something."
My breath caught. "My offer?"
"You said you'd make me something healthier than leftover Chinese food." Another pause. "If the offer still stands, I was thinking maybe tonight? I could provide the kitchen. You could provide the expertise."
He's asking me to dinner. He's asking me to his place.
Every alarm bell in my head went off.
