“It’s fine,” Isolde tells her before speaking to me. “We’re going to get coffee and hit up a bookstore after we meet Lennie.”
My eyes narrow on her. “Doesn’t Lennie have a job?”
“She’s taking a half-day,” Adeline explains.
“Don’t you work?”
She smirks. “I’m remote, so I’ll be fine. Besides, don’t you know Isolde is helping Lennie plan her wedding?”
My gaze cuts back to Isolde.
“I have to help Len,” she says, her fingers tightening in the hem of her shirt.
It’s only because I know she’s still upset about thismorning that I relent. Besides, I rationalize, it’s not like Adeline and Lennie Akatov won’t have their own guards.
“You should try Marco’s if you’re getting coffee,” Luis pipes up. “Try their horchata latte.”
Firing Luis is too generous. He’ll have to die.
“We’re just gonna get dressed,” Isolde says, finally looking me in the eye.
I shoot her my best ‘Grumpy Man’ expression, as Ren likes to call it. I’m not under any impression that I scare Isolde, but I blink when I catch sight of her shoulders softening.
“Unless you guys aren’t ready?” she asks.
Three heads swing my way.
“Sure.” Three sets of sighs loosen from the guys. Until I add, “We’ll just make up the sprints next time.”
CHAPTER 7
Tristan
Iknow two things about Adeline Akatov. She’s Lennie’s younger sister, something that goes in her favor, since I consider her the least annoying of Ren’s friends.
I also know Adeline isn’t like her sister. She might have the same dark hair and quick smile, but she put six rounds in Leopold Stuart without flinching once. And because of this, and because she never talks about it, the people around her are worried.
That’s not any of my business, though. Isolde wants to get coffee with her, so we’re going to get coffee with her.
Which is why after the gym, I trail after them, more like a big brother than a bodyguard, as I listen to them discuss Lennie’s upcoming nuptials. Apparently, finding a venue is causing a headache.
Isolde thinks she has a solution for this, which is why we’re meeting up with Lennie. But coffee comes first.
An older, black-haired woman waves at Isolde when we slip into the bustling coffee shop Luis suggested. A younger barista also directs a friendly smile toward the triggerman.
“What are you trying today, Izzy?” he asks.
I’ve never heard anyone call Isolde by a pet name. As far as I know, Ren doesn’t have a nickname for her. Everyone at Fujimori’s calls her by her full name. So, I’m not sure why this barista thinks he knows Isolde well enough to call her ‘Izzy.’
She smiles, running a hand over her slicked-back ponytail, not bothered by his friendliness.
“You brought friends with you and everything,” the barista adds.
“Hiya,” Isolde replies. “You want anything?”
She doesn’t wait for my reply. A few minutes later, I’m handed a black coffee.
“You never mentioned you’d been here before,” Adeline says as we wait for their lattes.
