Or a secret, unsettling sense of delight that there was warmth in the smile, despite everything.
Bryn shook it off and forced herself to look at him analytically. He looked like he was wearing an identical suit, shirt, and tie to what he’d had on yesterday, only these were spotless and wrinkle-free. Maybe Liam had some kind of overnight cleaning service, too. Even his shoes were shiny. He filled up a breakfast plate, moving fast but gracefully, and took a seat across from Bryn.
“Good morning,” he said. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes,” she said. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I? Fast Freddy rose from the dead and someone is apparently climbing sheer walls like a lizard to get at me. Nothing to keep me awake there. ”
“He won’t be climbing them here,” Liam said, sounding absolutely convinced of it. “Motion sensors on the walls, security at every possible entrance. Constant monitoring. You’re quite safe here, miss. ”
Before she had a chance to feel better about that, McCallister said, “She’s not staying. We’ll be leaving right after breakfast. ”
“I see. ” Liam’s eyebrows went up just a little. “Will you be needing anything in the way of supplies?”
McCallister flat-out grinned at that. “I’m starting to wonder if you think being a butler means that you’re Alfred and I’m Bruce Wayne. Do we have a Batcave?”
“Once again, I’m not a butler, sir. I’m
an estate administrator. And we do not have a Batcave that I’m aware of, but I can certainly check the basements just in case. I was speaking more of providing you with a packed lunch. Perhaps some coffee in a thermos. ”
“Ah,” McCallister said, and took a bite of bacon, which Bryn was starting to regret not having. “Lunch and coffee would be fine. Thanks. ”
“And for the lady?”
“Whatever you’re doing is fine,” she said hastily. What did rich people eat for lunch? Finger sandwiches with the crusts cut off? Oysters? She had no idea. This place made Mr. Fairview’s fancy French lunch look like the corner deli had slapped it together. “Where are we going?”
That last was directed at McCallister, and he chewed and swallowed a large bite of eggs before he said, “I told you that I had a contact who might be able to help with your … unique problem. A therapist. We’ll be visiting him shortly. ”
Again, he was talking in code, and the reality descended hard on her shoulders, like hands pushing her into the chair: someone was always watching. Listening. Even here. No matter where she went, she couldn’t shake off Pharmadene’s leash around her neck.
She took a bite of bagel. It was probably delicious, but she tasted almost nothing. At least it would keep her going, along with the coffee. “I need my shot,” she said.
“You’ll get it once we’re at the therapist’s. ”
“You have it with you?”
“Yes. I keep two with me at all times in case of emergency. ” When she frowned, he continued. “If you get severely injured, you may require a booster shot. I don’t want to be unprepared, as long as you’re with me. ”
“In other words, I could knock you out and take them, and I’d be all right for two days. ”
The smile went back to a tight, controlled, almost humorless expression. “Your problem is assuming you could knock me out. ” She knew that glint in the eye; McCallister wasn’t confident because he was arrogant. He was confident because he had historical evidence he was right. “And I don’t think one more day of running would take you out of the reach of Pharmadene. ”
He was right about that. Without resources, she’d be delaying the inevitable, and very messy, end. Pharmadene wouldn’t even have to chase her, unless they really wanted to. They could just literally let her rot.
Sucks to be me.
Bryn ate her bagel in silence, and by the time she was finished, Liam had already neatly packed her overnight bag and loaded it in McCallister’s car. He even included a new dog bed for Mr. French to travel in comfort. Lunch was in modular little boxes. “I think he is Alfred,” she said to McCallister, who was downing the last of his coffee as he watched.
“Actually, I often wonder if he’s Batman. ” McCallister handed Liam back the cup and saucer and opened the passenger door for her. “Time to go. ”
She let Mr. French jump in and take his seat in the dog bed before slipping in herself. McCallister got behind the wheel, and in ten seconds or less they were heading down the gravel path. Bryn let the crunch of the tires fill the silence for another five seconds before she said, “Your family has a shitload of money. ”
“That’s one way to put it. ”
“But it’s not your money?”
“I told you. I’m the trust administrator. I decide where the money is spent, but I’m not allowed to touch it personally. ”
“Is that why you took the job at Pharmadene?”