“That depends on the steak.”
Tanya pointed at her.“Don’t make jokes.This is my tragedy.”
“Fine.What happened?”
“He takes me to this fancy restaurant,” Tanya said.“The kind where the waiter says the specials like he’s confessing state secrets.I’m sitting there thinking maybe this is going somewhere.Maybe he’s about to ask me to meet his parents, or go away for the weekend, or finally stop saying his roommate is complicated.”
“Was the roommate complicated?”
“She was a woman named Bree who wore his hoodies.”
“That’s usually not a good sign.”
“I know that now.”Tanya folded her arms.“Anyway, we order.Wine arrives.He waits until I’ve taken two bites of my steak, then puts down his fork and says we should talk.”
Selena made a face.“Oh dear.”
“Exactly.He then just broke it off, mid-chew.”
“What reason did he give?”
Tanya lifted both hands.“He said we didn’t click.”
Selena stared at her.“That’s a poor excuse.”
“You’re tellin’ me.We clicked enough for him to sleep with me six times!”
Selena laughed before she could stop herself, then leaned closer.“Keep your voice down.”
Tanya’s eyes widened with wounded dignity.“I’m glad you find my love life amusing.”
“To be fair, he’s your third boyfriend in six months, and usually it’s you that does the dumping.”
“That’s not the point.”
Tanya looked away, trying to remain offended.The attempt failed after three seconds.“All right, to be fair, I was going to dump him anyway.”
Selena tilted her head.“Really?”
“Yeah.”Tanya sighed.“We just didn’t click.”
The laugh that followed broke some of the morning’s stiffness.Selena had spent the first two hours at her desk sorting reports that needed less reading than surviving.Her inbox had swollen again, and her calendar had too many review meetings.
Washington had taken her back as if she had never left.Case briefings, internal politics, evidence summaries, sharp questions from people who enjoyed finding soft spots in someone else’s report.Selena had moved through it all with the same discipline she always had, yet some part of her kept listening to tires on a rural road, county radio static, Connor Chase’s voice from across a sheriff’s office.
That annoyed her more than anything.A splinter she could never quite remove.
A shadow fell across the cubicle entrance.
“Well,” Brent Mayfield said, “what’s so funny, ladies?”
Tanya straightened at once.Selena did not.
Brent stood with one hand braced on the cubicle wall, handsome in the overly maintained way of men who knew every angle of a mirror.Late thirties, clean jaw, tailored shirt, hair swept into a perfect side part that looked as if a strong wind would need permission before moving it.He had charm when he wanted to spend it and a habit of treating flirtation like sport.
Tanya recovered first.“We’re laughing at my love life.”
Brent winced with theatrical sympathy.“That bad?”
