Riled (The Invincibles 4)

While I’d suggested to Teagon that she could resign her position as my personal bodyguard, she was intransigent that, when that time came, it would be her boss who instructed her to do so. She promised she wasn’t going mad with boredom since I spent all my time either in the office or at the hospital.

While being so busy kept me from thinking of Cortez every minute of the day, the pain of missing him was ever-present.

“What do you say we take a break for lunch today?” Linc suggested.

“Do we have time?”

He smiled. “With you doing half my work, I wonder if I might have my hours and salary cut.”

“Ha, ha.” I spent the majority of my time reading. Sometimes it was manuscripts, but I usually took those home with me at night. The rest of the time, it was marketing and financial reports. Little by little, I was learning about every genre of book we published and what the profit margins were within each.

Art books, the category in which my father’s books fell, was the least profitable of all. However, it was a market segment we’d never pull back from. The board believed it was important we continue to bring art to the masses in any way we could.

My reading preference had always been and remained fiction. Mystery and suspense more than any other genre, so I was thrilled when I was able to take home a manuscript that had been sent up for consideration. I stared longingly at the one I had sitting on my desk, but a girl had to eat too.

“Sure, lunch sounds great.” I sent a text to Teagon to let her know to tell whoever was on my detail this afternoon that I’d be going out.

“Where to?” I asked when we left the building.

“How’s Greek sound?”

“Brilliant.”

“Shall we walk?”

“Equally brilliant.” We hadn’t gotten very far when who should I see but Cortez, running toward us? I veered off the path, stood next to a tree, and turned my back.

“Kensington? Is everything okay?”

“Yes…um…fine.” Gawd, why couldn’t I think of a single reason why I’d suddenly taken an abrupt and ridiculous turn into the woods?

Linc walked around me so he faced me. “Do you want to explain?”

“No.”

He looked over my shoulder. “Is the man you’re avoiding about my height, bald?”

“Yes.”

“Then, I’m afraid we’re going to be here quite a while.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s standing on the path, hands on hips, doing what I can only assume is waiting for you.” Linc cleared his throat. “Correction, he’s coming this way.”

“Would you mind excusing us?” I heard Cortez say.

When Linc looked into my eyes questioningly, I nodded.

“I’ll just be out…you know…there.” He waved his hand in the direction of the path.

“Kensington?”

“What?” I said without turning around.

“Would you please look at me?”

“No.”