Matty tugged her T-shirt straight and exhaled through her nose.
“Don’t be pathetic,” she muttered, grabbing a clean towel and wiping down the bar. “She’s probably married. Or straight. Or both. Or not even remotely interested in girls who roller skate to work.”
Still, the image came back without warning—that slight pause, the direct handoff of the tip, the faint curve of her mouth—as if she knew something Matty didn’t.
She pressed her thighs together on instinct and turned towards the glass-washing machine, just to have something to do.
“Jesus,” she whispered, embarrassed by her own body.
She didn’t even know the woman. Not really.
But something about her had struck Matty in a way she couldn’t quite name.
“Hey, daydreamer.”
Matty smiled at the voice and turned to find Rachel grinning at her from the other side of the bar.
“Hey, Rach. Usual?”
“Might as well. You okay? You looked like you were away with the fairies.”
Matty opened the fridge and pulled out the already open bottle of house white.
“You could say that.” She scanned the shelf for the right glass. “I met a woman earlier who’s left me feeling a bit...” She paused while she found the glass she wanted. “Let’s say...questioning.”
“That sounds intriguing.” Rachel tilted her head. “In what way?”
“I don’t know. I can’t explain it.” Matty poured the wine and added a little extra for good measure. “But it was hot.”
“Did you ask her out?”
“God, no.” Matty laughed and placed the glass in front of Rachel. “I doubt very much that I’m who someone like her is looking for. She’s right out of my league.”
Rachel tutted and shook her head. “Nobody is out of your league, Matty.”
“Hm. Not so sure. She’s all designer suits and heels, nestled in a corner office. You know—earns a shit-tonne of cash, lives the high life. I can’t match that.”
“Maybe she doesn’t need you to match her money-wise.” Rachel took a sip of wine. “You bring more to the table than finances.”
“Uh-huh. Roller skates and a rucksack scream, ‘Hot dates,’ do they?” Matty laughed, brushing off the thought with a wave. “It’s fine. I’ll find Ms Right when the time’s right.”
“Maybe. I wasn’t looking for anyone when Sophie came along, either.” Rachel glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, I need to give her a call…see if she’s meeting me or—”
“Or you could just turn round.” Matty grinned and nodded past her.
Detective Inspector Sophie Whitton had just walked in.
And that was when Matty recognised it: The same calm, controlled presence. The way Sophie held herself. The way she looked at people. Quiet authority. Effortless confidence.
Power.
That was what she’d seen in Sloan—what had stirred something deep and electric inside her.
And apparently, Matty liked it.
Chapter five
Almost a month passed before Sloan let herself slip into a false sense of security. There had been complaints, and of course Gloria Slater had been a tyrant, but nothing that apparently couldn’t be handled—until it all fell apart.
