“But…” She trailed off.
“Come on.” I stood and held out a hand. She took it and pulled herself up, then cleared away the trash from our food. We headed down to the basement level, where I escorted her to my car.
She stopped and raised an eyebrow at the mid-range silver hatchback. “I expected you to drive something flashier.”
“Nah. This baby is better for tailing people or going unnoticed.” I patted the hood. “No one expects a mom car to be following them.”
I’d never fully believe that no one was watching me. With the circumstances under which I’d left the agency, I was sure they kept me under surveillance. Fortunately, Fiona didn’t ask any follow-up questions. She got in and directed me to her apartment. We were quiet as we drove, and I couldn’t help wondering what was going on in her head. I didn’t ask though, and soon, I parked outside her building. She hesitated and glanced at me.
“Would you like to come up for a coffee?” She raised herfinger. “I really mean coffee. This isn’t an invitation to get me into bed.”
I studied her face. I’d expected her to be glad to be rid of me, but she looked reluctant to leave. Perhaps she didn’t want to be alone.
“Sure.”
I followed her to her apartment on the third floor, curious to see the inside. When she unlocked the door and pushed it open, I was surprised by the sight that greeted us. The apartment was nearly bare. The walls were unadorned and almost as starkly white as the interior of the gallery had been. The carpet was threadbare and while I could see a sofa and two armchairs, there were no cozy touches like throws or cushions, which I’d expected from her.
I frowned. This didn’t feel like a place where Fiona should live. It reminded me of my own condo, which I’d intentionally kept minimalistic. Fiona should be surrounded by color. She was vibrant, and her home should be the same way. Not like this.
