Code Name: Grace (Jameson Force Security 6.5)

“Coming to my graduation was not,” she snaps.

And she’s right about that. I went to her undergrad ceremony at Duke because I was so proud of her. Hell, I’d been half in love with her at that point.

She sighs, clearly frustrated. “We were good friends. We had a bond most people will never have because of our shared experience with Katz. You don’t have a good reason for avoiding me all these years. Don’t even try because you’ll never convince me otherwise. But fate brought us back together.”

Fate? Is she kidding me? Even fate can’t be cruel enough to put the one woman I’ve ever really loved back in my line of sight to torture me again.

“You really believe that?” I demand angrily. “Because fate sure as hell fucked you over, didn’t it?”

“Clay… please don’t be like this.”

“Are you here to shrink me?”

To my surprise, she laughs, her eyes sparkling with pure humor. It lightens the moment, and maybe because she knows I’ve always loved her smile, she keeps it in place. “I already have. If you invite me in, I’ll take a few moments to give you my diagnosis.”

“I don’t want to know your diagnosis,” I grumble. Because it would probably be something like “lovesick fool can’t forgive himself”.

“You’re being rude,” she points out.

With a huff of resignation, I move past her and up the stoop, pulling my key from my pocket. I motion with my head for her to follow me. Perhaps if we do some social chitchatting, we can become apprised on each other’s lives for almost the past decade and move on.

I push the door open, then pin myself against it to give her space to precede me into the living room. She moves by, the light floral tones of her shampoo assailing me. It’s the same scent I remember from years ago.

“Clearly not married,” Corinne murmurs as she surveys my living area. That’s not a hard conclusion to come to. My house is the consummate bachelor pad. “Divorced?”

“Never married,” I clarify as I shut the door.

“Me either,” she says, finished with her inspection. “Never really had the time to get serious with anyone, you know what I mean?”

I scrub a hand through my hair, which is wet with sweat, and shrug. “I guess so.”

Corinne studies me carefully, tapping a finger on her chin. “I know what we need.”

“What’s that?” I ask, my nerves sizzling by the almost-cunning look in her eye.

“We need some devoted time to have a very serious talk,” she says with a firm nod.

It’s the last thing in the world I want.

“So go pack your bags,” she demands, pointing to the narrow staircase that leads to the second floor. It is where my room is located, but she’s only guessing. “You need enough for a couple of days.”

Eyebrows shooting up, I say, “Excuse me?”

“You’re coming with me to my place,” she says confidently. “You’ll spend Christmas with me because no one should be alone. You clearly don’t have anyone, so we can talk there.”

“Absolutely not,” I reply, because being alone with Corinne in her home is something I’m not sure I could handle.

“Just for tonight then,” she urges. “It’s Christmas Eve, Clay. I’ll feed you a good meal. If you don’t want to talk about anything deep, we’ll keep it light. I’ll bring you home in the morning if you want.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I mutter, trying to ignore the curiosity burning inside that wants to know how Corinne has survived the last nine years.

She takes a step toward me, reaches out, and touches my arm. Her eyes, a lovely shade of brown that matches her hair, narrow on me. There’s a glimmer of sharpness in them.

“You owe me, Clay,” she murmurs. An accusation. A truth, for sure. I failed her, then ignored her, so I do owe her. I can’t believe she’d use that against me. Damn her and her psychology powers. “I need to talk to you about… well, everything that has happened over the past nine years.”

“Corinne,” I say hesitantly, not sure whether I’m about to agree to her request or ask her to leave. My hesitation doesn’t sit well with her. I watch fury fill her eyes.

“I know you think you failed me,” she snarls, jerking away from me and putting her hands on her hips. “Okay… fine, you did. You failed me, Clay. You should have done more. Is that what you want to hear? Do you need absolution from that? Well, guess what… I want closure, so you owe me a fuck of a lot more than just a brush-off right now.”

Her words slice straight into me, an admission I’ve been waiting to hear from her—what I’ve always suspected. I failed Corinne. I’m one of the reasons her parents are dead. I wasn’t good enough at my job to get Katz before he ruined her world.