“That’s good.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Not surprised,” he said. “Just relieved.”
She watched him for a moment.
“You worry about me more than you admit.”
He shrugged.
“Occupational hazard.”
“Prosecutor or… something else?”
He didn’t look away.
“Both.”
The air shifted.
Neither of them moved.
The creek rushed past, steady and indifferent.
Finally Reid stood.
“Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Walk,” he said. “Before you decide this was a bad idea and send me home with a closing argument.”
She smiled.
“I do give very good closing arguments.”
“I know,” he said. “That’s why I’m moving you.”
They stepped back onto the narrow street. The night air felt cooler after the bistro.
They walked slowly. Her shoulder brushed his.
Reid stopped beneath a flickering streetlamp.
He took a second to simply look at her.
“You know,” he said, “this town isn’t used to you yet.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“What does that mean?”
“You walk into a room and people notice,” he said. “They’re still figuring out what to do with you.”
She laughed softly.
“That’s not always a good thing.”
