Knox nods, finally glancing at me over the rim of his glasses. “It’s good. You’re courting her properly.” He takes a bite of pasta, chewing slowly. “I had the weirdest encounter at the gym earlier.”
I walk over to the sink to wash my hands. The water is cold, shocking my skin back to reality after the heat of the car. “Oh?”
“I was walking out to the car. It was already dark.” Knox sets his fork down. “I saw a woman near the edge of the lot. For a second, I thought it was Amber.”
I freeze, my hands under the water. “Amber? She was at work.”
“I know. That’s why I did a double take. Same height. Same hair.” He shakes his head, frowning. “But it wasn’t her. This woman... she looked terrified. She was asking me where the bus stop was.”
I grab a dish towel and dry my hands, turning to lean against the counter. “Did she look like a local?”
“No. She looked like she was running from something.” Knox picks up his fork again. “She didn’t have a coat. Just a thin sweater. She was shivering. I gave her some cash for a cab instead.”
“That was nice of you.”
“She needed it.” He shrugs. “It was strange, though. The resemblance. For a moment, my heart stopped. I thought something had happened to Amber.”
I open the fridge and grab a bottle of apple juice, twisting the cap. “Did you know her? Had you seen her around town?”
“Non.Never before.” Knox pushes his plate away. “Maybe she was just passing through. Like that woman Fallon brought home last week.”
“Fallon brings home a lot of women,” I say, taking a long drink of the juice. It’s tart and cold.
“And he sleeps through them all,” a voice groans from the sofa.
Fallon shifts, rolling onto his back. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, blinking up at the ceiling.
“Why are you guys being so loud? Some of us are trying to recover from a very emotionally taxing day.”
“Va te coucher,”Knox snaps at him. “Go to bed, Fallon. You snore like a chainsaw.”
Fallon sits up, scrubbing a hand through his messy hair. He looks groggy, but his eyes are sharp as they land on me. Then he looks at Knox.
“You asked him yet?” Fallon asks.
Knox throws his hands up.“Putain!You always jump the gun. I haven’t asked him anything. We just sat down.”
“Asked me what?” I walk over to the island, leaning my hip against it.
Fallon swings his legs off the sofa, planting his feet on the floor. He looks between us. “About tonight. About Amber.”
“We need to talk,” Knox admits, his voice dropping an octave. “About what we told her the other night. Has she brought it up again?”
“I think we scared her,” I say, setting the juice bottle down. “In the office. We unloaded all this heavy stuff about the pack and the rule, and then we just told her to go to sleep.”
“It was a lot,” Fallon agrees. “She looked shell-shocked.”
“So, what are we thinking?” I ask.
“Dinner,” Fallon says immediately. “Invite her here. For dinner.”
“Here?” I glance around the warehouse. It’s home, but it’s big and industrial. “You think she’ll come?”
“It’s better than the kitchen,” Fallon points out. “In the restaurant, she’s an employee. The dynamic is too rigid. Knox is the boss, she’s the staff. We can’t really talk there.”
“I agree,” Knox says. He stands up, taking his plate to the sink. “The kitchen isn’t the best environment for a conversation about feelings. They just get in the way of the mise en place.”
“Here is neutral ground,” Fallon says. “We can cook for her, pour her some wine, and actually sit down like adults and figure this out.”
