I fuckin’neededit.
Instead, she smoothed it out to the same blank expression she’d used while searching Rye. “To answer your rude question, yes. I have casual clothes.”
“And we don’t have different opinions on what constitutes casual? ’Cause here, it means jeans and tees.
“Yes, I am aware of what it means. Though if you keep it up, I’ll steal a bunch of regency gowns from one of the museums and work exclusively in those.”
“Got no clue what a regency gown is.”
“The old-timey fluffy ones with all the layers.”
“Be a helluva good time watching you try to navigate through the Saturday night crowds in something like that. That’s if you don’t pass out from heatstroke within the first hour. Either way, I think stealing is frowned upon, darlin’. Seems like something a cop would know.”
“And it seems like a business owner would know not to call his newest employeedarlin’.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that was what I called all women, whether they were a baby or a geriatric.
But something about that rubbed me wrong,
“My bad. Won’t happen again,” I said.
I just left out that I would find something else to call her. Something that was just for her.
Temporarily.
“Good,” she said. “What’re the hours?”
“I got you on the early shift for Friday and Saturday ’cause that’s when Harlow had availability. We’re closed Sunday and Monday. Arrive at four-thirty. Doors open at five. You’d usually be done around ten, but we’ll play it by ear.”
“No lunches?”
“Not anymore. Wasn’t worth the staff for a few customers.”
She nodded. “Think the fake interview has lasted long enough?”
No.
“Yeah,” I forced out instead.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
The plan was for her to return for a training session on Rye’s setup, but it was likely pointless. If she had experience, she could catch on as she went. It wasn’t like I was throwing her in the deep end. Harlow had already agreed to work a couple of shifts so Lo could shadow her. Even then, I would only give the detective enough work to avoid suspicions while she focused on the real reason she was there.
I got that she had to be in the building to do her job, but she could do it without actually training with me.
And I didn’t need to spend any more time with her than was necessary, considering I was already acting like I didn’t have a brain in my damn head.
I continued that pattern and asked, “In a rush to leave?”
“Kinda, yeah. I have plans.” She seemed to catch what she’d said and shifted back into cop-mode. Or maybe it was good-girlmode. ’Cause even if it wasn’t a real interview, she was quick to make sure she wasn’t in trouble. “But they can wait if there’s more to discuss.”
My mouth opened, and it was on the tip of my tongue to ask a question I had no right to ask.
I wanted to know what her plans were.
And whether they included someone else.
Someone who was waiting in the house two doors down from mine.
