Kingdom Come

“Honey, you’re late and it shows on your face.”

I swallowed the drink before reaching in my purse to find my compact mirror. My reflection revealed a smoky eye look not on my lids but under my eye. I’d only have used makeup to get that effect if I’d been going for the “four hours or less of sleep” look.

“Ugh,” I whined.

“A little concealer and you’ll be fine. Your meeting is in fifteen minutes, so let’s get started.” Before diving into our agenda, he left my office. A second later, he was back with a bouquet.

“From Hans?” I said, feeling bad once again I couldn’t make it work with the man.

“No.” He set the bouquet of assorted flowers in a variety of eye-popping colors on my desk.

I plucked the card from the forked stick that held it.

Roses are red

Violets are blue

All are pretty

No more than you.

See you tonight

Griff

Though I didn’t want to smile, I did. Anderson took the card from my hand and read it.

“The hot Scot,” he said. “You totally need to screw him and tell me how it was.”

“Slut,” I teased.

Anderson was an equal opportunist when it came to bedmates. He didn’t discriminate based on anything. Male or female or anything on the rainbow spectrum.

“You wish,” I added.

“Damn straight, but apparently he’s sticking to that line.”

“He’s just a friend,” I said, slipping the card back into the matching tiny envelope.

“You’re missing an opportunity there. You two could be a power couple.”

“Who kill each other. We’re too much alike.”

“Not a good enough reason,” Anderson sing-songed.

“We’re better friends.”

“Coward,” he said and left the room.

I thought maybe Anderson had given up until he came back in with another bouquet. This one was filled with a dozen perfect long-stem red roses.

“Hans,” I said, sure of myself this time. This was more his style.

“Ding, ding, ding. Give the girl a prize.”

“I need to call him.”

“You do, but not until after your meeting.”

He moved both arrangements to a side table made of glass, which made it look as if they were floating.

“Concealer,” Anderson added before leaving my office again—probably to greet the artist I was meeting.

I did my best to dab some under my eyes before Anderson came in with my appointment.

Running an art gallery wasn’t easy. My day was jammed with making future deals with artists and haggling vendors for my upcoming event. Which meant by the time I left for the day; I was exhausted. When I finally got home and took a long gaze in the mirror that was temporarily mine, I saw the weariness that weighed on me.

I missed my best friend, who had absconded overseas for her protection, and I missed my brother in Chicago. I couldn’t call Bailey because of the time difference, so I called my brother.

Because of his job, he rarely answered his personal phone because according to him, while he was undercover, he didn’t carry his personal phone. So when he said, “Hello,” I was surprised.

“Matty,” I teased.

“Hey,” he said, sounding cautious.

“Is everything okay?” I asked in a panic.

“It’s fine. You? B?”

“I’m good. Bails is fine, last I spoke with her.”

We both had our nicknames for Bailey.

“Look, now’s not really a good time. Things are heating up.” That meant that the case was nearing its conclusion, which calmed me some. Though he’d told me that was also the point when an investigation became extremely dangerous. “I probably won’t be answering this phone for a while.”

“What if I need you? Or something happens?”

He sighed. “I’ll give you the other number, but you have to promise not to use it unless it’s an actual emergency.”

He meant life or death, not fashion or missing him.

“I promise,” I said.

He rattled off a number that I wrote on a random menu I found in a kitchen drawer. “If you call or text, keep it short and simple. Don’t give details. I’ll figure out your message and get back to you.”

My brother could take care of himself. He had been doing so since we were young. That didn’t take away my fear.

“Be safe,” I said.

But the call ended, and I couldn’t be sure if he’d heard me.

While I heated up soup I’d bought from a vendor on the street, I whipped up a grilled cheese sandwich, the one thing in the world I could cook outside of a basic breakfast. While I ate, I emailed Bailey the details of tonight’s shenanigans. She’d get a kick out of hearing that I was going on a quasi-date with Griffin—and that I was looking forward to it. I needed the laughs he would bring.

I dressed for the club, though I didn’t have a lot of options since my apartment was off-limits. Kalen had been willing to buy me a replacement wardrobe, but I couldn’t let him do that. I did let him buy some things, but mainly because I was pissed he’d put my bestie in danger from the man stalking her. It still didn’t leave a lot to choose from. Plus, I didn’t want Griffin to think I’d put a lot of effort into my choice of outfits, giving him false hope. For only a second, I wondered if I was making a mistake by not giving the big lug a chance.