And yet, Jaime would want any opportunity possible given to her brother. If I interfere with his chance, she’ll never forgive me.
So I keep my mouth shut.
We chat for a few more minutes before Kynan excuses himself to handle the pressing obligations of running a large security firm. I offer to escort Clay back out. Instead, he asks, “Hey… you mind giving me a tour of the place? Griffin says you actually have an indoor firing range here.”
Laughing, I clap him on the shoulder. “Sure. Be glad to.”
I start weaving through the pit desks, and he follows. “This is obviously the main floor where we do administrative work. You came through the garage and first floor, so you can see we like to keep our place well camouflaged.”
“Yeah.” Clay laughs, shaking his head. “It was a bit disconcerting coming into what looked like an abandoned building, then needing a security scan to get inside.”
“The technology we have here is better than you feds will ever see,” I tease. Who knows, maybe one day Clay will want to move from the Fibbies to the private sector?
We make it to the floating staircase, but I point over to the elevator just ten feet away. “You can take either up to the third and fourth floors, but most of us use the stairs.”
Clay glances over to the antique freight elevator that chugs at the speed of molasses. I think the only use it got recently was just before Anna gave birth to her daughter. Those last few weeks, she took the elevator rather than the stairs.
I put my hand on the stair railing, intent on starting upward, when I note Clay’s gaze slide to the right. He makes an almost strangled sound in his throat. He’s staring at the first glassed office there, which belongs to our resident shrink, Dr. Corinne Ellery.
She’s sitting at her desk, head bent over her laptop. She always keeps her fluorescent overhead lighting off, preferring the ambient glow of a few lamps set about her space instead.
When I swing back to study Clay, he has the most stunned expression I’ve ever seen on anyone before. Without even a backward glance at me, he starts moving toward Corinne’s office, but in an almost hesitant kind of way. He looks as if he’s seen a ghost and is compelled to go see, but might be a bit afraid of what he may find.
I hold my place, watching as he moves to her open office door. He stands there, practically drinking her in with his gaze. She has no clue she’s being observed.
Finally, he says, “Corinne?”
As if he really can’t believe it’s her, despite the fact there’s a brass nameplate next to her door.
It’s a subtle movement, but I can see her actually stiffen at the sound of Clay’s voice, then her head slowly rises as she takes him in.
Clearly, they know each other, but for the longest time, they just stare. It’s obvious they have history. By the tense lines in both their bodies, it’s clear it’s not the good kind.
Corinne rises slowly from her chair, a smile starting to curl incrementally across her face. “Clay?”
“It really is you,” he says quietly, again almost disbelieving.
“Been a long time,” she says as she comes to stand before him.
“Nine years,” he murmurs.
Again, another long moment where they just stare at each other, and I wonder what’s between them. Were they lovers? Coworkers? Enemies?
Corinne provides a bit of an answer when she moves into him, putting her arms around his shoulders and drawing him in for a warm hug. “I’m so glad to see you again.”
They must have been friends at the very least, as I can see the fond look on her face over his shoulder as a serene smile plays at her lips.
My powers of observation are sharp, though, and I note that Clay barely gives her a squeeze in return, hands at her waist, before he draws back. Scraping his hands through his hair, he mutters, “Yeah… good to see you too.”
She can sense his discomfort, but she doesn’t give up. Sweeping a hand toward her office, she asks, “Want to come in? Have a cup of coffee and catch up?”
Taking a step back, he shakes his head and looks at his watch. “Actually… I’ve got a meeting I need to get to.”
“Oh,” she replies, clearly disappointed. “Maybe some other time?”
“Yeah… sure,” he mutters, and I know she can hear he has no intention of taking her up on that invitation.
Clay turns, offering me an apologetic wince. “I’m sorry, Cage. Maybe I’ll take that tour another day.”
“Anytime, man,” I reply, giving him a nod.
Clay moves to the elevator, which is the only way down to the first floor from this one, and Corinne just watches in silence, disappointment making her frown.