Page 38 of Keller

“Mm.” She tilts her head, assessing the river on her canvas. “And what about your knight in shining armor? Might he be stealing all of your free time?”

I pause just long enough that she notices.

“We’re not seeing each other,” I say, dipping my brush into a thin wash of gold.

Leah’s brush drops against the edge of her palette with a soft clatter. She turns fully in her chair to face me.

“Wait, what? Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Last time we talked,” she says carefully, “you were practically glowing. You told me you didn’t want to leave his place the next morning. You said you almost missed work because you were standing at his kitchen counter, drinking coffee, talking, and admiring his happy trail.”

I roll my eyes at her, irritated that she has to remind me how amazing that morning was.

I drag the gold across the surface of the water, but it comes out too defined, too sharp. The instructor is talking about softening edges. I ignore her.

“Yeah,” I say. “Well. I found out the next day he’s the son of the damn dead guy I’m looking into.”

Leah blinks once.

“As in,” she says slowly, “theRobert Stone?”

“Yes.”

“The company you’re reviewing.”

“Yes. His last name is Stone. He's Keller Stone, Robert Stone's son.”

She leans back in her chair, processing that, then looks from my rigid river to my face.

“Okay,” she says, calmer now. “That’s… inconvenient. But why does it have to be a deal-killer?”

“Inconvenient is one word for it.”

The instructor walks past and tells us to let the colors bleed into each other. Leah nods politely and does exactly that. I don’t.

“So where are we?” she asks.

“He asked me to dinner two days afterthenight, and I told him I couldn’t do dinner. And that was it. Crickets ever since.”

Leah studies me for another beat, then reaches for her wine. “Hold on. Slow down. You found out he’s a Stone, and your solution was to cut him off without even talking to him?”

“I can’t talk to him about what I’m doing. You know that,” I say quietly. “I shouldn’t even be talking to you about it, technically. I was assigned to quietly review Stone Intermodal to determine whether there’s enough there to justify a formal investigation. If I disclose that to him, I compromise the review before it even does what it's supposed to do.”

Leah nods once, not dismissing it. “Okay. I understand that part. You can’t tell him. But I’m still not clear on why that automatically means you can’t see him.”

I set my glass down and wipe my hands on the rag beside my water jar, buying a second to organize my thoughts.

“I found an article that listed the corporate structure,” I explain. “His name is on payroll under Strategic Partnerships and External Relations. At first glance, that makes him an employee of the company I’m reviewing.”

“I don't really understand what you mean by 'first glance,'” Leah says.

“Well, when I dug further, his role doesn’t intersect with shipping operations. He doesn’t sign off on container movement or authorize vendor contracts. But he is technically a paid employee of Stone Intermodal. And he's his son, for fuck's sake."

Leah’s brush glides through a streak of gold, and she lets it run into the blue without trying to contain it.

“So what does he actually do?”