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“Diana, that’s enough!” Storm snaps. He grabs her by the wrist, tugging her firmly in the direction of the exit.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” she gripes.
As Storm pulls her out of the restaurant she spots a bunch of young people across the road. She waves at them to catch their attention. She blows a kiss to one of the young men in the group.
“You,” she says. “Yes you. We’ve got a table inside for you, darling. Bring your friends if you want.” She winks at him.
Inside Luca’s restaurant the customers are attentively watching the little scene. Storm hurries Diana away from the window. When she tries to yank away from him, he pushes her firmly against a wall.
She laughs. “Ooh, is that how you like it?” she says. She grabs his tie and uses it to pull him closer. He tugs it away.
He can feel his cheeks getting red with angry heat. His breathing is harsh. “What the hell has gotten into you?” he demands.
“Oh baby, nothing yet,” she croons. “But we can change that if you like?”
Storm swallows hard and takes a step back from her. “You’re not acting like yourself.” His eyes drop to her clothes.
She sees it and she preens. “You like it? The punters have been practically throwing their tips at me. Had to come in tonight you see. Diana doesn’t like to let Luca down.”
“Does your boss make you wear that?” he demands.
“What do you care? I can wear what I like. I can do what I like. I don’t work for you any more, big shot Mr Agent Storm.”
“Is that what this is about?” he asks harshly. “You’re angry with me? I’ve explained to you why! I didn't want to fire you. It’s for your own good.”
“You don't decide what is for my own good. I decide. And if you don’t like it, you can push off. Like everybody else.” Her voice breaks a little at those final words, and Storm’s heart clenches.
“Diana,” he says softly. “You need help. You need to talk to someone about what you’re going through. You can’t brush your grief under the carpet and hope it goes away.”
“This has nothing to do with grief!” she snaps. “What would you know about it? I want my goddamn job back, and I am going to get it. I’m beating you. You're going down the wrong rabbit hole, Mr Hot Shot.”
“I told you to stay out of this case.”
“But why, baby? It does you no good. You would be looking at little Mrs Sweetie-Pie, Beatrice Grictor, too if you weren’t so busy panting after her.”
“I’m not panting—”
He cuts himself off abruptly, realizing it is doing either of them any good to get sucked into whatever game she is playing. “Beatrice Grictor has an airtight alibi.”
“Puh-lease. I bet she crooked her sweet little finger and fifty panting air-tight alibis appeared, all of your gender.”
“Just one,” he says coldly. “Griggori Vetruvin, the Otherworld Ambassador to London, if you must know. The Ambassador, Diana. It’s you who is disappearing down a rabbit hole. You’re not yourself. Are you on something?”
She laughs. “Why would I be on something, baby? I’m high on life and the smell of victory.”
“You should apologize to Beatrice. She’s the only reason we didn’t come to find you with an arrest warrant. She refused to press charges.”
“Diana!” calls a voice, startling both of them.
A portly middle-aged man standing in the restaurant doorway is looking their way. Storm realizes that he is towering over Diana in a menacing manner and takes another step away from her.
“This guy bothering you, Diana?” the portly man asks.
“Everything’s fine, Luca,” she says. “I’ll be in in a minute.”
Luca gives Storm a grim and lingering look of warning before disappearing back inside the restaurant.
Storm turns to Diana. “You’ve got a good thing going here, Diana. An employer who cares about you. I’m serious about you getting help. Do you really want to throw it all away? Trust me, I know how easily the slippery slope gets you. You’ll be at the bottom before you even know it.”
