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She lifted her chin in an attempt to disguise the fact that she was the sort of woman who wanted to weep over Garfield.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
Katie crossed her arms and remained mute. Caleb might look all stern and scary standing there with his hands on his hips, but in truth, she knew he was deeply uncomfortable. He wanted to talk to her about something personal. He was actually initiating a personal conversation with her, which never happened, ever. Katie was always the one who drew him out. Which meant that all she had to do to avoid having a heart-to-heart with her brother was say as little as possible.
“What happened in Buffalo?” he asked.
“I’ve been working on my interview notes, but everything important is in Sean’s report.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Then I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Caleb sighed and sat on the edge of her desk. Sometimes she forgot how big and experienced and intimidating her brother could be. He’d left home at eighteen, traveled all over the world with the army, and come back again fully an adult.
Katie felt as if she’d missed a step, somehow. Maybe she was supposed to have built a chrysalis around herself at some crucial moment and emerged out the other side all wise and mature. Maybe if she’d done that, she wouldn’t feel quite so much like she was cluelessly flailing around all the time.
She leaned down to find her purse on the floor by her feet, then started digging around for her lip gloss. What had happened to her in the past few weeks? Parisian Katie was a distant memory, a phantasm Sean had exorcised in the backseat of his car. While her disappearance had very briefly seemed like a good thing, Katie knew better now. She’d lost her confidence. Misplaced it somewhere by the roadside. All the lip gloss in the world couldn’t save her.
She located the little pot, unscrewed the lid, and used her pinky finger to slick it on anyway.
“I’m not giving up the case,” she said. “And I don’t want to keep talking it to death. I’ll do a better job keeping you in the loop, but—”
He cut her off. “What happened with Sean?”
“What? Nothing.”
“Then why are you so moody?”
“I’m not. I’m great.” Katie pasted on a bright, fake smile.
Caleb looked out the front window and exhaled a long breath. Several seconds passed in which neither of them spoke. Katie reminded herself that it wasn’t her responsibility to fill every awkward silence.
“Did he kiss you again?”
Caleb sounded so uncomfortable, she felt sorry for him, but not sorry enough to answer the question. “That’s none of your business.”
“You both work for me. It could affect the case.”
Katie screwed and unscrewed the lid of the lip gloss, wishing she were anywhere else in the world than here in the office with her brother, having this conversation.
Caleb retaliated by standing up to fiddle with the coffeemaker. She imagined what they’d look like to any agent who came in. A performance of awkwardness.
He turned back toward her abruptly. “Okay, no. That’s not true. I don’t give a shit about that. I just want to know what’s going on so I know if you’re all right.”
“I’m all right.”
“And that’s all you’re going to tell me?”
Katie felt sudden tears rush up behind her eyes, a fist gripping her throat, and she swallowed hard. She set the lip gloss down on her desktop as if the fate of humanity depended on its precise placement at the corner of a sheet of copier paper.
As a bartender, she’d learned that there are people who need to talk and people who need to be left alone. There was nothing she could do for the latter, but when it came to the people who needed to talk, all you had to do was bring their drinks and give them some time and an opening.
Caleb had her pegged. She needed to talk. She didn’t want to, but it hardly mattered.
