That earned me a smile that was half grateful and half worried.
“Okay,” she said softly. “But I warned you.”
I smiled back. “You didn’t warn me about anything. You challenged me.”
You’re always challenging me. It’s why I can’t get enough.
But I kept that part to myself. Rachel wasn’t ready for that yet.
We were both dressed in a hurry—me in the same jeans I arrived in and a borrowed sweater of hers—one shestolefrom me—that smelled faintly like her apartment, her in black pants and a jacket that made her look both professional and perpetually five minutes from running.
She made us a pair of coffees in disposable coffee cups. “I try not to use these as often here, but we’re running late, so I don’t want to stop on the way.”
“I can always step out to get you one once we get there,” I offered, enjoying the way she moved so fluidly, barely slowing down to segue from one action to the next. I just stayed out of her way unless she told me to grab something.
On our way out, we ran into a blonde coming out of her apartment on the first floor. A quick flip through the mental files pulled her name out. Alix. Student at the Sorbonne. Rachel liked her.
She took one look at me, then at Rachel, then back at me.
“Oh,” she said, her voice a soft purr with a deeply French accent. Also, thankfully, she spoke in English. My French was passable, but I had been practicing. “Sothisis Dominic.”
Rachel froze. I offered my most polite, well-trained lawyer smile.
“Guilty.”
Alix grinned like she’d just won a bet. “Good. I was worried you were imaginary. I’m Alix. Welcome to the building.”
“Be nice,” Rachel muttered.
“I am being nice,” Alix replied cheerfully. “I just like knowing what my friends’ mysteries look like.”
She leaned in and kissed Rachel on the cheek, then nodded at me. “Take care of her. She forgets to eat.”
“I’ve noticed.”
Rachel shot me a look. “Traitor.”
We stepped out into the morning air, Paris already awake in that effortless way cities only manage when they’ve been doing it for centuries. Rachel walked fast, phone in one hand, coffee in the other, already half in work mode.
“You can hang at the café across from the Daily if you get bored,” she said. “It’s decent. Wi-Fi works. I might disappear on you for a few hours.”
“I’m not offended,” I said. “I came to see you in your habitat. This counts.”
Her office was exactly what I expected, beautiful chaos. Light everywhere. People hurrying around with purpose. Conversations overlapping in French, English, and whatever shorthand people invented when they worked together long enough.
The first to spot us was an attractive woman with auburn hair up in a neat twist and wearing an equally sharp pantsuit accented by a colorful scarf.
She didn’t even seem to hesitate as she strode over to greet us. She looked me up and down once, then turned to Rachel with a knowing smile.
“C’est toi, Dominic?” she said.
Rachel visibly tensed. “Oui.”
The woman gave a soft throaty laugh then gave me another once over. From the glint in her eye, she approved. “No wonder Rachel plays it coy about you,” she said, this time in English.
I blinked.
Eyes narrowing, Rachel glared at her and it wasn’t quite as playful as the woman’s flirt. “Margaux?—”
