The kraft box is stamped with the name of my favorite bakery.
“Thank you.” I open it up, letting her steal one.
“Did Luis let you up?” Tristan asks.
She nods, munching on her muffin, not at all concerned with his scowl. She does, however, look guiltily at me. “I let him have a muffin.”
Tristan’s already got his phone out.
“Don’t get him in trouble!” Ren wails.
“He got himself in trouble,” he replies.
She crams the muffin in her mouth. “Am I not on the guest list or something?”
“What happened to taking some time off?” I ask her.
She smiles brightly and whips out her phone. “I booked our cruise last night. Look.”
She shows off her itinerary before swiping through photosof Alaska. It’s not until Tristan begins speaking in Spanish that we’re pulled out of our little world.
“Did everything go okay last night?” Ren’s tone is light, but I don’t like her green, prying eyes.
“Yeah, it was fine.” I take the remaining muffins into the kitchen. Ren is right on my heels, and I know why. “I haven’t started a pot, but I can get you some.”
Ren purses her mouth, slightly dejected by the lack of coffee. “Nah, it’s okay. Abe’ll have some ready when I get there.”
“You sure you want to go into work?”
She proved after last night’s shootout that she’ll be the only broker operating out of Fujimori’s. But she also declared she’d be having better work-life boundaries from now on.
“I know what everyone is thinking.” She helps herself to another muffin. “I want to show my face. I want everyone to know I’m back to business and that the Stuarts can fuck right off.”
I pull out a lemon poppy seed. My side slightly twinges, my breath catching. Tyler gave me pain medication, but I don’t like popping pills.
“You okay?” Ren hums.
“Mhhhmmm.” Slow, deep breaths stabilize me.
“Hey, so.” Ren leans up against the counter. The lights are off, the windows letting in plenty of natural light. “I wanted to run something by you.”
Ren is zany. She claps her hands when she’s excited or cusses a mile a minute when she’s worked up. She’s more subtle today, but my brow furrows the slightest as I catch her peeking up. Not only that, but she tries to bite back a smile but can’t.
Is she about to announce a fucking engagement already?
That’d be awfully fucking fast. Ben will lecture her andthen make her sign one hell of a prenup. I know she’d be happy, though.
“You know how everyone kept harping at me about taking on too much work?” she says. “Well, I’ve got the most perfect, brilliant, amazing plan in the whole entire world.”
Oh, I misunderstood her facial expression. The smirk is hinting at a sneaky bit of planning.
“And what is your most perfectly brilliant, amazing plan?” I ask.
“You!” Her nose wrinkles, an impervious grin splitting her face.
“Me?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. Her black blazer is fashionable, but I’ve always wondered if it’s uncomfortable. I hate any fabric that’s too restrictive. “I want you to come work with me.”
