She stepped back into the room as Roarke walked in.
“Good morning. I’d hoped you’d sleep longer.”
“Long enough. What?” Her brow furrowed as he studied her. “Are you going to tell me there’s something wrong with this?” She waved her hands down her body.
“Quite the opposite, Lieutenant. I was just thinking you look strong, capable, and in charge.”
“Good. I am.”
He crossed to her, lifted her chin. “Then why do your eyes look sad?”
“Not sad, just working things out. What time did you get up to lord over the known universe?”
“A bit before five. I had a brief ’link conference.” He lifted her chin a little higher, kissed her. “Did you dream after all?”
“Not bad ones.” He saw too much of her, she thought, and evaded by shifting away to gather her things from a table. Restraints, ’link, comm, badge, loose credits.
“Is that all you have?”
“Of what?”
“Money.”
Annoyance rising, she shrugged. “I just need to go by the machine, pull some out. I’ll hit an AutoBank when I get to Central.”
He took a money clip out of his pocket, pulled off several bills. “Take it. It’ll save you time.” When she made no move to do so, he felt his own annoyance rising. “Christ Jesus, if it troubles you so much, you can pay me back. You’ve more important things to do and think about today than stopping by an AB.”
She took it, stuffed the bills in her pocket. “You’re right. Thanks.” But she said it stiffly.
“Would you feel better if you signed an IOU? Perhaps I should charge you interest.”
“I said you were right.” When he only lifted an eyebrow, she fumed. “I didn’t pay for anything I’m wearing.”
Now he angled his head. “I don’t believe I bought those restraints, your weapon, your ’link.”
“Goddamn it, you know what I mean.”
“I do, just as I know you hate to shop for clothes. For anything, actually, while I enjoy it.”
She started to snarl back at him, hissed out a breath instead. “I’m looking for a fight.” Cursing herself, she pressed her fingers to her eyes, dropped them. “I can’t explain it.”
“All right. Should we have one now,” he said, very pleasantly, “or schedule it for later?”
“It’s not you and me. I’m just using you and me so I don’t have to think about everything else. I want it done, I want it over. I want to close this door.”
“This door opened so hard on the heels of the last investigation. It’s hardly a wonder you’re scraped raw.”
“Yeah. Time to hope for a nice, straight murder. Greedy bastard shoves business partner out the window. Brother stabs brother over the last bag of soy chips. Spouse bludgeons spouse over sidepiece. You know, the fun stuff.”
“I have no doubt you’ll get that wish. After all, there’s never a dearth of greed or sidepieces in the world, but only a finite number of soy chips.”
“That’s the damn truth. We okay?”
“Of course we are.”
“I want to go ahead and finish up the rest of the names, just check that box off.”
“I’ve one or two things to see to myself.”
“I fed the cat,” she said when they started out together.
“That’s a coincidence. So did I.”
“I knew it!” Glancing back at Galahad, she would have sworn he smirked.
Roarke smirked right back at him. “What he doesn’t know is he’s now eating low-calorie kibble.”
“He is?”
“By Summerset’s decree after a vet checkup where the vet advised that our boy should lose three to five pounds.”
“I gave him a little salmon,” Eve confessed.
“I went with tuna.”
The laugh felt good. Then she walked into her office, saw the long table already stacked with plates, flatware, cups.
“Oh, hell.”
“People need to eat,” he reminded her, and walked into his office.
She sat, got more coffee, and diligently worked her way through the remaining names. She barely noticed Summerset rolling trays of heat-domed dishes out of the elevator. Or did her best to ignore it.
She heard someone coming—not Peabody, wrong stride, wrong sound—swiveled in her chair as Reo came in.
“Look at this! You redid your office. It’s fabulous. You have a fireplace. I’d kill for a fireplace this time of year. I love the colors, and your workstation—”
“Command center,” Eve corrected.
Reo went, “Oooh,” and walked over on boots with high, thick heels. “Very impressive. And whatever’s for breakfast smells wonderful.”
“Didn’t your friend make you breakfast?”
Reo sighed, took off her coat. She wore a slim dress, short jacket, both in deep, dreamy green. “No, he had an early shuttle to catch. It’s someone I’ve been seeing for a few months, semi-seriously the last few weeks. And now he’s leaving for Sierra Leone for sixteen months.”
“Where the hell is Sierra Leone?”
“West Africa. Can I have coffee?”
Eve tapped the AutoChef in the command center.
“Okay, now I’m seriously jealous. He’s a teacher, part of an organization called Literacy Warriors. He’s going there to teach, to educate. It’s noble, admirable, and really crappy timing for me, personally. But.” She shrugged, took the coffee. “That’s how it goes.”