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“So, Miss Sera.” Now that Tim isn’t here to stare at the poor woman, Fletch restarts his mating ritual of awkward seduction. He runs the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip and inches closer until his chest presses to the ball of her shoulder. “You’re here… at a stinky bar. And you’re looking quite…”Edible. Sexy. Fuckable, when I pin your ankles around my ears. “Beautiful.”
“Yeah, I’m here.” But then she turns away and faces me. “To talk to my boss.”
“Burn!” Archer laughs loud enough to draw eyes from the other drinkers around us. “She has no time for your stinky-bar self, Fletch. That’s, like, strike thirty-seven, right?”
“Shut it,” he grumbles. But while he sulks, I ignore them both and meet my assistant’s eyes. She’s yet to say anything of real substance, but it takes only a second to notice the storm roiling in her stare. “What’s up, Fifi?”
Her nostrils flare with ill-concealed rage. “We’re still doing that? We’re still calling me Fifi?”
“It’s a term of endearment,” I tease. “Promise. Did you actually need something? Or are you here to hang out?”
“I need time off work.”
Behind the bar, without being asked, Daisy drops a round of sodas for us to take. Not beer. No liquor.
Almost like a protective Malone might’ve already handed down instructions to his new hire.
Aubree grabs one and schools her expression so she doesn’t burn poor Daisy where she stands. Then she passes another glass to me. A third to Seraphina.
“I need two weeks.”
“Oh?” I bring the straw to my lips and suck a mouthful of Coke down into my stomach. If I can’t have booze, then I can absolutely appreciate caffeine. “Two weeks is a long time. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. But I need the time, and since we haven’t set up a protocol since you came on as chief, I wasn’t sure how you wanted me to organize myself. Would you prefer email?”
“Email… to request the time off?”
She nods.
“No. I think I heard you. When do you need the time?”
“As soon as possible.” She sips her drink and draws a concerned sigh deep into her lungs. While behind her, Fletch no longer leers. Instead, he leans closer to listen. To fix, if her issue is fixable. But because she doesn’t have eyes in the back of her head, she’s robbed of the chance to see the man I see. The caretaker. The protector. The sweet Detective Fletcher who isn’t as obnoxious as he pretends to be.
“I need to leave immediately,” she continues, “if that’s possible. Or within a day or two, if you require time to organize a temp employee.”
“I mean…” I look to Aubree. “Can we manage? We can manage, right?”
“We’ll figure it out.” She places her hand on Seraphina’s arm. “Are you okay?”
Behind her, Fletch’s phone trills loud enough to make him startle and his chest to hit Seraphina’s back. Which then has her stepping forward to escape his touch.
“Shit.” Setting his drink back on the bar, Fletch juggles his phone, almost yeeting it across the room and assaulting one of the other hundred police officers in attendance. Righting the device and reading the screen, his eyes relax as he swipes to answer. “Penny? Hey.”
With a roll of her eyes, Seraphina ensures plenty of space between her and the flirt who currently flirts with someone else. “I need to fly back home for a bit. I have a family thing to take care of that can’t be handled by anyone else. I know the timing sucks,” she rushes out when I open my mouth. “I know it would be best if I stayed here. I assure you, as soon as I can escape, I’ll be on the first flight out to come back and get on with my work.”
“You’re so pretty.” Fletch practically humps his phone. He turns to the bar, leans on his elbows, and draws circles on the top with the tip of his finger. “Wait for me, okay? We’ll do dinner together.”
Firming her lips, Seraphina confirms she can hear everything the whore mumbles behind her.
“Oh?” he chuckles. “That’s good. I left the station already, but I’ve made a quick pit stop. Yeah.” His eyes glitter with pleasure, and my foot itches to stomp his junk. “Of course.”
“Is your thing something you’d like to discuss with us?” Aubree desperately works to drag the conversation back around. “Not, like, something you’re telling your colleagues. But something you’d tell a friend? Because we can be that for you, too. If something’s upsetting you, we could—”
“My mother died.” She says it so coldly, so matter-of-factly, even Fletch drops his phone hand and turns with wide eyes. “Yesterday,” Seraphina continues. “So I have to go home and take care of the funeral.”
“Oh my gosh!” Tears dance in Aubree’s eyes. “Your mom died, Fifi, and you didn’t think to stop me from teasing you earlier? Or even on the walk down here! I was gossiping about the mayor’s love life, and you didn’t think to tell me to stop?”
“Why would I?” Cold. So fucking cold. “It’s not a huge deal.”
