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I pointed. “In Fenchurch?”
He nodded, and my eyes widened. “Clearly, I worked for the wrong lettered agency.”
“She couldn’t afford it on her salary. The flat belongs to a friend.”
Why was my first thought that the “friend” was a guy? More, why did it irritate me?
We ordered pints and took a seat near the front window while we waited for Puck to arrive.
“What’s good here?” I asked, looking over the menu.
“I highly recommend one of the curries if you fancy them.”
“How do you choose? They all sound great.”
“I usually get two. One vegetarian, then either the chicken curry or the beef madras. Hmm, this is an interesting development.”
“What’s that?” I looked up and followed his line of sight. Nemesis was arm in arm with another woman, and they were headed this way. “Who’s with her?”
“Wren, um…”
“I know who she is. Z and I had a conversation about her before we came to your office.”
Rather than enter the pub, they turned and walked down the sidewalk directly in front of the window where we sat. I thought they might pass without noticing us, but Wren raised her head, saw Cayman, and nudged Nem. Her eyes scrunched when they met mine.
“If this was intentional on your part…” I mumbled when Wren pulled a reluctant Nem back toward the pub’s entrance.
“If it was, it’s Puck’s doing, not mine.”
“What’s mine?” the man asked, joining us before the women did. He had a pint in his hand, but I hadn’t seen him come in.
“Were you aware?” Cayman nodded his head, and Puck looked over his shoulder.
“Not at all. I haven’t spoken with Nem since yesterday.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked, approaching us in front of the other woman.
I raised my glass. “Having a pint. Can I get you one?”
“I’d love one, thanks.” said the woman Cayman had identified as Wren. I did a double take, stunned by her Texan accent. “Hi, I’m Wren Whittaker.”
“Ares Kappas,” I said, shaking her hand.
“And actually, I’d prefer two fingers of Booker’s. Neat, please. Same for my friend.”
Nemesis was a bourbon drinker. Interesting, given it was my preference as well. Rather than ordering two, I got three.
“Can I help with those?” Wren said from behind me.
“Sure.” I handed her one of the glasses.
“Least I could do. Booker’s isn’t cheap.”
“I didn’t realize you were from the US,” I said as we rejoined the group.
“My mama was from Texas. It’s my daddy who’s a Brit. And my husband.”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
