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Jules scrunched her face. “What kind of drugs are in your coffee?”

“Just good old-fashioned caffeine.” Cassie took another sip. It had finally cooled to a reasonable temperature. She could almost taste the caramel now. “Seriously, though. Take it from a completely neutral source. He’s into you.”

“Ford’s a flirt with everyone. Have you seen him? I’m not his type. And he’s not mine.”

“I beg to differ.” Cassie shrugged. “But if you insist.”

Jules huffed, but Cassie could tell she heard what Cassie said. “Anyway, you have a visitor.”

“A visitor?” Cassie looked around, but the entire entranceway was empty. “Who? Why?”

“Don’t know why. He said he’s from Savannah. He’s waiting in my office. I told him I’d send you back when you got here.”

“You could’ve led with that.” Cassie kept her voice even, but her stomach churned.

“I had to get the good gossip first.”

“Fair enough.” Cassie pushed away from the counter. “Thanks, Jules.”

“Are you okay?” Her voice was already fading as Cassie wound her way to the back.

“I’m good.”

But she wasn’t. A visitor from Savannah? Cassie’s first thought was Jason, but he wouldn’t have met her inside the museum. They already had plans for later, and he would’ve texted if something had come up. She checked her phone just in case, but there were no messages waiting for her.

Against her will, Cassie’s brain conjured another image. David. She shook it away. She knew he was gone. She’d been to his funeral. But if this had been any other time, it would not surprise her to see his frame filling the doorway. Delusions of some cosmic correction filled her with hope, even as she turned into the office to see a stranger sitting in Jules’ chair.

He was the exact opposite of David. Tall. Lean. Comfortable in a suit. He had gelled and coiffed his hair. His tanned skin was two shades too dark to be real, and it made the blue of his eyes stand out even more. The smile on his face was genuine, yet it made her think of a shark. If she wasn’t careful, he might open his mouth and swallow her whole.

“Ms. Quinn.” It wasn’t a question. He knew who she was. “My name is Dan Palmer.”

When he held out his hand, she shook it. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

“We?

?ve never met.” His smile didn’t waver, like it was glued to his face. “But I’ve heard a great deal of wonderful things about you. Please, sit.”

Cassie stayed standing. How presumptuous of him to ask her to sit in what currently doubled as her own office. She didn’t want to be rude, but something about Dan Palmer kept her on guard. “How can I help you?”

If the fact that Cassie hadn’t complied with his request bothered him, he didn’t show it. He sat behind Jules’ desk, his leather briefcase before him. “My colleague has been raving about you since you two met. She suggested I reach out to enlist your services on a project I’m struggling with. It would be well worth your time. The compensation would be generous.”

“Who’s your colleague?”

“Anastasia Bolton.”

A ripple of fear made its way through Cassie’s body. “You work for Apex?”

“Yes.” Impossibly, his smile grew wider. “I’m so glad you remembered. I wasn’t sure if you would. Anastasia told me how chaotic things were in Charlotte. Though, she tends to leave an impression.”

Cassie couldn’t argue with that. Anastasia Bolton had been Senator Grayson’s publicist, and while she’d only come face to face with her once, Cassie remembered the cool confidence that oozed out of every pore in her body. Detective Davenport had murdered Senator Grayson’s son, but FBI agents Viotto and Mannis thought Apex had been pulling strings the entire time.

Mannis had warned both Cassie and Viotto before they parted ways—if Apex comes knocking, make sure you don’t answer the door.

But it was a little late for that.

“What is it you want me to do?” Curiosity got the better of her. “I’m just an art preparator.”

“I wouldn’t say you’re just anything.” Palmer gestured around the office. “The museum sent you down here to oversee an installation, didn’t they? Don’t sell yourself short.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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