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The stare-off between her and Brant persisted. Tension visibly tightening the features of his face.
Maybe she’d get lucky and his anger would cause him to blurt out something useful. She could always hope the combination of rage and alcohol would prompt that vein throbbing in his forehead to explode. Death by aneurysm. She could live with that. Nah, she’d never get that lucky.
Her cell vibrated on the counter.
The sound shattered the intense moment. The bastard grabbed his drinks and walked away without another word.
Finley drew in a long, deep breath. She was brave, but she wasn’t stupid. She was pushing the boundaries here. But then, how boring would life be if she didn’t dance on the edge from time to time? She’d learned from the best. Jack was the king of pushing boundaries.
Mildly annoyed at the interruption, she picked up her cell and checked the screen.
Matt.
She frowned. Then remembered. Oh hell.
Drinks. Exciting news.
She groaned. Had totally forgotten she was supposed to meet Matt at ten.
A quick tap of the screen and she pressed the phone to her ear. “Hey, you. Sorry I’m running late. I should have sent you a text.” She grimaced. Matt was her friend. Her best friend. Had been for most of her life. He was one of three people who she should never let down under any circumstances.
“No problem,” he said in that smooth, deep voice of his. The one that always made her feel at peace and relaxed even when she had absolutely no right to feel that way. “I just ordered another pint,” he reassured her. “I’ll see you when you get here.”
“Five minutes,” she promised, guilt piling deeper. “I’m on my way.”
Lucky for her, the Fleet Street Pub was only a few blocks away. She pointed one last glance at her target, then headed for the exit. Keeping a watchful eye on her surroundings, she hustled out to her dusty ten-year-old Subaru and climbed behind the wheel. As she rolled away, she considered it was a good thing the pub where Matt waited was casual. Since she’d forgotten their date, she hadn’t bothered with a stop by the house to change after leaving the precinct. A peek at her reflection in the rearview mirror reminded her that her hair hung in asloppier-than-usual ponytail. Three months’ worth of blonde roots gave away her true hair color.
Didn’t matter. Matt wouldn’t care. As long as she showed up, he would be happy. He was that kind of friend.
At the next intersection she braked, then tugged her tee from her chest and sniffed herself. At least she smelled okay.
She made a right turn and scanned for an open slot. Parking was not so easy, gobbling up precious time. Downtown Nashville was like most big cities—there was never enough parking. Printers Alley was no exception. She climbed out of her Subaru and walked quickly along the alley and then down the steps to the pub’s entrance. Matt waved from a table, and she relaxed. By the time she reached him, he had pushed to his feet and pulled out a chair for her.
“Sorry.” She flashed a smile at him.
He brushed his cheek against hers in a quick hug. “Not a problem.” He gestured to the table as they settled into their chairs. “I ordered you a Guinness.”
“Thanks.” She lifted the glass and savored a deep sip of the brew. She was generally a wine drinker, but beer just went better with some things, like the food served at this British-style pub. “That hits the spot.”
His lips spread into a smile as he nudged a basket of crisps and french onion dip in her direction. She dug in. The spicy dip tingled on her tongue, and she grabbed another of the freshly made potato chips. Funny, she hadn’t realized she was hungry. Suddenly she was starving.
This pub was one of their favorite meeting spots. The atmosphere was quiet and relaxing. When they came for dinner, the food was very good and pleasantly different from the usual fare around town.
“Don’t make me wait any longer,” she fussed. “What’s your big news?”
Matthew Quinn worked as the liaison between the mayor’s, the DA’s, and the chief of police’s offices—the three, or the unholy trinity, as Finley liked to call them. Talk about walking a tightwire. But he wasvery, very good at his work. Somehow he managed the job while maintaining a neutrality few—including Finley—could hope to achieve. If his news was work related, she hoped it was a raise.
Or maybe he’d finally met a special someone.
The idea made her heart skip. He deserved someone special. Funny how the thought made her happy for him and a little sad at the same time. A new, deeper relationship with someone else would change theirs. Finley scolded herself for the selfish thought.
“I had dinner with the governor and his wife tonight.”
Finley sat back in her chair. “Wow. Sounds like someone has noticed your work.”
Matt scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “His chief of staff is having some health issues and has decided to retire.”
“Oh my God.” Finley grinned. “And the governor offered you the position.”
