Page 102 of Enzo

“That really was deep.”

“Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment.”

“It's true,” I insist.

“You don’t love what you do?”

“Not really.” I think about the Knight legacy and the deals we make, the companies we acquire, and everything that goes along with it. “I don’t hate it,” I tell her, “But I don’t have your sense of passion about it. You’re lucky that you feel so strongly about it, and that you love it so much.”

“I know.” She nods. “I know I am. My friend Kiki …” she pauses. “The one who uploaded the Venice clips … she hates teaching. She’s looking for a way out of it, and being a beauty influencer seems to be her ticket.”

Neither of us speaks. It’s almost as if we don’t want to talk about the media intrusion and that horrible episode.

“Did you get your report done?” she asks.

It’s nice that she remembers. “I did.”

“Are you working again tomorrow?” I hear the disappointment in her voice.

“I always have work to do.”

“All work and no play make Enzo a dull boy.”

But I don't want to work tomorrow. I don't want to work any time I'm around Molly. I don't know how many days we've got left like this, I suspect it's not long, and I want to make the most of every moment with her.

“Tell you what, how about we go out again tomorrow?”

“Again?”

“Why not? I can work in the morning, which frees up the afternoon.”

She jumps to standing. “Are you sure?”

“I'm sure.”

I get another blinding smile from her. All this for the chance to go outside again.

“About tomorrow ...” My mind is getting carried away. “Maybe we could grab dinner outside tomorrow? The disguises work, and it would be a shame to not get more use out of them,” I add quickly.

“You liked it, didn't you? Being anonymous?”

“It's the best thing.” I hesitate, wondering if I should tell her.

“What?” she asks.

“Nothing.”

Her eyes narrow. “You were going to tell me something. What is it?”

It’s scary how much she picks up. How easily she can read me.

“Lesley, my personal assistant … did something.”

“What did she do?”

“She ordered a second set of disguises. Something a bit more …” I close my eyes, shuddering at the thought.

“A bit more what?” Molly asks.