As I duck my head to slide in, Clee doesn’t even look at me or smile at my tall guy struggles.
The forced neutral look on her face kills me.
That’s my fault again.
I had to put this thing we had out of its misery since she wouldn’t. Now she’s bitter and angry and thinks she knows better.
Not a good working relationship.
Still, better than feeding delusions.
I wonder when the fuck I’ll finally believe that. I’ve only said it in my mind a hundred times.
The guilt can’t stop my wandering eyes, the regret in everything I don’t see anymore.
I miss the easy looks, the indigo fire she’d beam back, soft and beautifully strange as the Northern Lights.
I miss her smile.
Goddamn, that smile.
And when she’d give it to me, it felt like I fuckingdeservedit, too, even though I knew deep down I never did. We were the worst combination.
“Ugly traffic jam today,” the driver says, chewing gum that makes the whole vehicle smell like strong peppermint.
Just fucking perfect.
My eyes flick down to the open app on Cleo’s phone. The museum isn’t far, but it might be twenty or thirty minutes in this bumper-to-bumper mess.
A lot of time to think about what we’re walking into. My instincts feel like they’ve been dragged over broken glass.
Something about this meeting doesn’t feel right.
When you’ve been in this business as long as me, you learn to listen to your gut. Your subconscious, your intuition, often pings on threats faster than your conscious mind.
I run back everything I know, sifting for missing pieces.
Yeah, there’s a chance Fairfax was involved in the break-in somehow, and it wasn’t just a leak with his contacts.
The Black Talon boys are professionals, veterans in high-profile heists. Henchmen for all the world’s supervillains.
I lean back in the seat and close my eyes, stewing.
I think she glances at me once, then away again.
I wonder if she’ll ever look at me again without that disgust in her eyes.
She looks at the rearview mirror while the driver grinds on through traffic, chewing his damn gum. His clicking jaw only puts me more on edge.
“Are you going to glare the entire ride?” I whisper when I can’t stand it.
“If I want to,yes.”
“Fairfax, he’s bad news, Clee. No good reason for him to show up. I wish you’d see that.”
But she won’t. She wants this over and done.
She can’t fathom a harmless art dealer acting against her interests.
