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“I did not say that.” Turning off the tablet, I set it aside. “How long will it take to find the names, addresses, and backgrounds of the children’s parents?”
“Not long. If they attend Niko’s school, they are likely wealthy and in the public eye.” She slows the car in front of the music foundation. “What do you plan to do with the parents?”
I cut her a sharp look.
Akira laughs softly when it dawns on her. “I feared you had gone soft.”
“This is why you should never doubt me.”
A satisfied smile on her red lips, she nods. “I will get their addresses right away.”
I look at my watch.
Dejonae should be in her first class now. It will be another two hours until she arrives.
Unbuckling my seatbelt, I gesture for Akira to follow me into the office. “We will get it done within two hours. I have a very important appointment today and I do not want to be late.”
* * *
American parents are so usedto being coddled that it takes little effort to get my point across. One particularly disgruntled mother tried to throw salt at me but, otherwise, I emerged from my visits unscathed.
Akira drives me back to the foundation where I call Adam, get an update on his work and finalize plans to show Dejonae the lab later today.
When there is a knock on my door, I give a distracted, “Come in.”
A loud creak fills the air as the door widens.
I hear her before I see her.
Quick-paced footsteps. A heavy sigh. The scrape of a watch against jeans.
The air carries a hint of cinnamon.
I look up and fall into Dejonae Williams’ stormy brown eyes hidden beneath hunkering brows. It is our fourth meeting and yet she remains just as adversarial today as she did the night of the gala.
She is surprisingly stubborn for someone so young.
And people rarely surprise me.
Miss Williams remains at the door as if she wishes to leave as much space between us as possible. Her T-shirt is short and shows off a strip of her toned stomach. Her jeans are tight around her legs.
A large clip holds most of her thick, honey-tinged curls at the base of her head. There is no makeup on her face, not even lipstick, and yet she looks fresh-faced and glowing.
The perks of being young.
I lean back in my chair, letting it swing just a little.
A glimmer of disdain lives within her obsidian gaze.Will the kitten strike with her claws today?
“Miss Williams.”
“Mr. Sazuki.” Her full lips round the syllables in a crisp, hateful manner. She possesses a unique ability to turn my name into an expletive.
I glance at my watch.
She huffs in annoyance. “I’m on time.”
She is.
