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“Alright. Well…” As Aubree pulls into the crowded driveway of the George Stanley, I look up at the multistory building and consider, of all places O’Dey might be, right here is a strong possibility.
It would be foolish of me to go inside when I have a bum knee and no way to defend myself if he should come for us.
Lifting a finger to silently ask Aubree to wait, I leave my seatbelt on and my door closed as more press circle us. More reporters. More shouted demands. “You go do that, and we’ll catch up with you in a bit. And, Archer?”
“Yeah?” His voice grows more hurried. A little more distracted. “What’s up?”
“Be careful, okay?”
Silence hangs on the line for a moment. Then two. Three.
My palms sweat and my stomach hums with nerves. Then Archer’s smug chuckle sets my temper alight.
“I knew you loved me too. I knew you’d come around. Oh, and listen… do you wanna, like…” he wavers. “Date sometime?”
My nose wrinkles with disgust. “What?”
“Date,” he presses. “Like normal, grown adults do. Let’s get an actual meal at an actual restaurant. We can dress up for it and have candlelight and be nice to each other. I can bring you flowers. Once,” he adds on. “But don’t get used to that, because the idea of buying something already dead pisses me off. But a once-off, and maybe for special occasions. I can pick you up and use my manners. We can do it up right and actually build something real.”
“Why?”
“Why?” His breath comes to a stop. “Why what?”
“Why would you want to build something?”
“Because I have feelings for you. Fuck, Minka!”
“I can hear him,” Aubree snickers. “You pissed him off.”
“Shush,” I scowl for her. Then for Archer. “You need to calm the hell down and stop making this weird.”
“Love is weird to you?”
“Stop saying love! Jesus, Archer. Stop making this into something huge and scary.”
“I asked you out to dinner, Mayet. Not to marry me.You’rethe one making this weird!”
“Ya know what?” I point toward the driveway exit for Aubree to pull away from the George Stanley. “You made it weird. Formal invitations make it weird.”
“So I’ll just turn up at your place, then.” The sounds on his end of the line come louder. Rougher. Then abeep, beep, beepthat makes me think they’ve stopped the car and the seatbelt alert is bleating. “I’m sick of the drama, Mayet, so let’s try normal for a minute.”
“There is literally nothing normal about us.”
As Aubree pulls into the street, I point to the left and watch as she makes the turn at the end of the block.
“You’re a homicide detective. Your job is to hunt down killers. And my job is to study the dead.” I point right when Aubree glances across at me. “We can never plan anything, because we’re always on-call.”
“So you think we shouldn’t even try?” Car doors close, then footsteps crunch on gravel. “We should just continue to argue and dance around each other and sometimes eat a meal at Tim’s?”
“Well… yes. Because Tim and I are engaged. It’s only good manners I eat at his bar.”
Archer stops for a moment. Then chokes out a feral laugh. “You’re a pain in my ass. We’re going out to dinner, and you’re gonna fucking like it. As soon as we get O’Dey behind bars, I’m coming for you.”
“But, Archer,” I lower my voice, similar to how I spoke to the press. “I’m injured. It would be best if I stayed at home and rested.”
“Fine. Then I’ll order from a restaurant and come to you. Now quit fucking around and stop announcing your moves to the media. I’ve gotta go, so—”
“That’s fine. I’ve gotta go too. I’ll see you when I see you.”
