Page 14 of Unmasked

She shook her head. “No, don’t worry about it.”

“If you’re sure,” he said cautiously. “I was going to watch the shop for a bit, but…”

“No, really.” She waved off his concern. “I’ll be fine. You do whatever you need to.”

The quicker they found this person, the better. All she wanted was to find whoever was taking these photos of her and make it stop.

“Okay. Text me when you get there and let me know if you’ll be going anywhere else.”

“Will do.”

With that, she tossed her phone in her purse and cranked the engine, then pulled onto the main drag. She had just turned onto the road leading to her parents’ subdivision when her phone rang. Part of her hoped it was Mason calling back with good news, but logically she knew it was too soon.

She rooted through her purse, following the vibrations, and swiped to answer when she saw Fletcher’s name on the screen. “Hello?”

“Hey, Evie.” Fletcher’s smooth voice filtered from the other end, its familiarity calming her overwrought nerves. “How are you?”

“I'm good.” She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “Did you get my message?”

“That's actually why I’m calling you,” he replied. “Oscar asked me to come to the London branch with him for a couple of weeks.”

“That's great.” She smiled. “Hope you’re having fun.”

“Not really.” He laughed. “It’s been mostly sixteen-hour days, but if all goes well, I may end up working over here permanently.”

She knew it was something he’d always wanted, and she was genuinely happy for him. “Well, good luck. I hope it works out.”

“Thanks. Me, too. Anyway,” he continued, “if you could hang on to that letter for a couple weeks until I get home, I would appreciate it. Otherwise, it's all just going to build up in the mailbox.”

“No problem at all,” she said. “Just let me know when you're back in town and I'll send it to you.”

“Sounds good.” There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. “It's been a while since we've talked. How are you doing?”

She pulled into her parents’ driveway and parked, considering his question. “I’m… okay.”

“What's wrong?”

Concern laced his tone, and she sighed, debating how much to tell him. Finally, she decided to go with a partial truth. “It's been both good and bad. It's nice to be back home, but it's overwhelming at the same time.”

“I’m sure,” he said.

There was a rustling sound in the background, followed by the low hum of voices and what sounded like the clink of drinkware. “Sorry about that,” Fletcher said. “We have a dinner meeting, and I just got to the restaurant.”

“You're fine,” she assured him. “You’re busy, and I don't want to hold you up. Just give me a call whenever you get back.”

“I'll do that. It was good to hear from you.”

“You too.” She ended the call and sat there staring out the windshield for a moment, phone still clutched in her hand as a wave of nostalgia rolled over her. Fletcher had been her friend for years—her best friend, really. He’d been by her side for the better part of ten years, and a huge part of her missed him. She still loved him; she just wasn’t in love with him. He deserved someone so much better than her. Immediately following that train of thought came the guilt.

Because, despite the fact that they’d been married, she wasn’t sure she’d ever been in love with him. Fletcher was the easy choice, the steadfast, rock-solid presence she knew she could depend on. But he couldn’t hold a candle to Knox. She’d loved him as a child, and those feelings were so deeply embedded in her soul she knew she’d never feel that way about another man.

CHAPTER

EIGHT

Comfortable chatter filled the room as Knox stepped into the bullpen. His gaze landed first on Roman Incardona, who stood with his hip propped on the corner of Miles’s desk, arms crossed over his chest. Colorful tattoos decorated every inch of his skin from his wrists to shoulders. He probably looked intimidating to people who didn’t know him.

Knox lifted his chin. “How's it going?”