“We’ll work it out.” Zeke meant they’d think on their feet.
Now Halsey was cold. Cold enough to shove his hands in his pockets to keep them from fidgeting and pace the length of the foyer.
He was all out of ability to think on his feet. That’s what led to the awful public confrontation with Cookie Jar. A rush of fear and dread in response to the attack on Lenny so overpowering it nearly locked his jaw and made his brain crackle. A hasty, knee-jerked decision to act like an impervious bastard while not killing the con.
A better field operative would never have made the mistakes he had.
A better field operative would never have risked his partner’s safety by falling in love with her.
Lenny had known best about them. She’d called it up front. It was impossible for her to ever trust him. She’d gotten in that elevator and had never looked back. He was the one who’d screwed it up. He’d acted impulsively that night in the rain and then again when he’d agreed to her attending the gala. Impulsivity had never worked out for him, and regret was the least of what he was feeling.
From behind him, Zeke said, “Do you want me to go check on her?”
Lenny would be fine. She was strong, resilient. Lord, he needed to believe she’d be okay. Lost sleep over it. He’d failed her twice, letting her get too close to a dangerous despot and hurting her reputation and not protecting her from an even closer threat in her brother.
“Halsey, where the heck is your head?”
“Right here. I’m thinking about how badly Cookie Jar needs the cryptocurrency deal.”
“You’re trying to work out what you got wrong with Lenny.”
“I know what I got wrong with Lenny. I fucked it up, royally.”
“It’s never a fuck-up to fall in love.”
“That’s not— It wasn’t.” He stopped moving and closed his eyes.
He loved her, and he couldn’t deny it.
When she stopped hating the essence of him, Lenny would figure it out. She’d realize he’d been ham-fistedly trying to fix the damage he caused. Not that it would matter. Whatever grace he’d earned with her by accident was all used up, and they were terminally finished.
Zeke zipped his jacket, the sound echoing on all the stone. “Things can get wild when you step out from behind your big desk and kiss a woman.”
“Yeah, well, I won’t be kissing Lenny again.”
“Are you certain about that?”
He turned to face Zeke, who was disguised as a maintenance man wearing overalls, a cap, and glasses. The beard was stuck on, and he was struggling not to scratch at it, hands going from his jaw to the zip on his jacket.
“If she had a murdering bone in her body, I’d be wearing cement boots and decaying at the bottom of the Hudson.” Right next to Easton.
Zeke rolled his eyes. “You desk jockey types are so dramatic.”
Two seconds later, Sherin opened the inner door, a hand to the concealed earpiece she wore. “He’s on the move.”
“Go get this bastard,” Zeke said, and made for the stairs.
Halsey had fifteen minutes to get his head in the game. That was how long it would take for Cookie Jar to walk from his hotel. If he fucked this up, everything he’d put Lenny through would be worthless.
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“Places,” Sherin called.
He buttoned his suit coat, unbuttoned it. Looked at Sherin. He was completely out of his depth.
“You can be heartbroken later,” she said.
“I’m—” Oh, forget it. You simply couldn’t fool a Sherwood. “I’m coming.”