Chapter 11: Chapter Eleven

When I walked into work on Monday, something fluttered in my stomach. I pressed my hand to my belly, frowning. I usually only got this feeling when watching a really good serial killer documentary. I couldn’t stop myself from looking into Carma’s office as I passed, but I didn’t see her or her assistant.

With a good morning wave to Maggie, who was already on the phone, I powered up my computer and opened my email. The graphics team at SHAP had been busy, creating proofs for all the promo materials we’d need for the fundraiser. Downloading the images from a dummy email account, I forwarded them to Carma for review.

I was sifting through and organizing the files left from the previous assistants—mostly just half-assed projects with no useful information—when Carma yelled my name and ran into the office.

Maggie looked up startled as I stood, rounding my desk. “What? Are you okay?”

“Am I… Are you serious?” She grabbed my forearms. “You are magic!”

I stilled and something inside me settled. Like her touch was the answer to a question I didn’t know I was asking. I struggled to take in a full breath. Her hands tightened briefly as she smiled up at me, those green eyes wide and bright. Even after she let go, I could feel every inch of pressure she left behind.

“The proofs are perfect! How’d you get them done so fast?” She turned to Maggie. “Did you see them? I don’t know how Mina’s working here and not at some top five ad agency.”

Maggie set down her phone and walked over. “I have not, but I’d love to.”

“She’s being overly generous but thank you.” I walked back to my computer, minimizing what I was working on and pulling up the images. Carma and Maggie both leaned close to the screen, Carma’s hand resting on my shoulder.

How could I feel the warmth of her hand throughout my entire body?

“These are excellent, Mina,” Maggie said, sounding as if she were a proud parent. “You’re going to give Rachel a run for her money.” She smiled just a little too wide as she walked back to her chair.

Carma’s hand slipped off me and she stepped back, looking down at her shoes, then back up at me. “Thanks again. I’ll get them to the printers right away.”

“You’re welcome.”

She stepped away, walking out the door, looking back over her shoulder at me one last time before disappearing.

“I can feel you staring,” I told Maggie.

“Hmmm.”

“What?”

She just shrugged. “Be careful. I like you.”

I held my hands up. “Just doing my job.”

“Keep it that way.”

I nodded and tried to focus on my computer screen. My left hand slipped over my forearm, pressing where Carma had squeezed, as if trying to hold the feeling there. Realizing what I was doing, I ripped my hand away. It was a simple touch. Nothing else.

I had just walked in the door after work when my phone buzzed with the wind chime text tone I’d assigned Carma.

Carma: Help!

Carma: Mom wants to change the menu from drinks only to drinks and apps.

Carma: Want to meet and taste test? I can’t exactly eat anything.

My heart thudded hard against my ribcage.

Me: I’m in. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.

I rushed to my room to change into jeans and a black top, spritzing with my favorite scent. I usually only wore it on a rare night out, but why shouldn’t I wear it anytime?

“You’re strangely joyful for a Monday evening.”

I jumped at Sebastian’s appearance. “Don’t do that. And I’ve got a work thing tonight. Can we reschedule our Unsolved Mysteries marathon?”

He nodded. “Does this include Carma?”

I glared. “It’s literally my job to get close to her.”

“You applied perfume.”

“Because I don’t have time to shower.”

He made a noise.

“What?”

He walked over to the side of my bed and sat down. “When was your last evening out with a potential suitor?”

“Potential suitor?” I mocked, looking at him in the mirror while I fixed my hair. “Uh…I dunno…eight or nine months?”

“Yes, now I recall.”

I turned to face him. “Okay?”

“It is strange to me that you’re more excited to go to a ‘work thing’ than you’ve been in the last two years.”

“That’s not true.” Except it was.

“If Carma wasn’t your mark, would there be anything else that would keep you from pursuing her? Disregarding that you have the emotional maturity of a cactus.”

The silence was an answer in itself.

“Just so.” He patted the spot next to him, and I walked over and sat down. “What will you do?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. I can’t have a relationship with a mark. End of story.”

“And after?”

“Ha! If I started dating someone from my most recent case, there’s no way I’d ever get promoted again.”

“Even if, perhaps, they were innocent?”

I scrubbed my face with my hands. “When have any of my marks been cleared of all charges? They don’t send Jake and me in unless they’re sure.” I blew out a breath. “And it’s usually bad.”

He nodded. “Be careful then.”

Harvest Café was a block away from downtown Applechester, a rustic-but-elegant, farm-to-table joint that had a waiting list every weekend night. Despite the traffic, I glided into a street spot, paid for parking on my app, and breezed inside.

The scent of tart apples and freshly baked bread surrounded me as I pulled off my sunglasses and looked around for Carma. A server, dressed in all black with an ankle length apron, approached. “Ms. Madison?”

I nodded.

“Right this way.” He led me through the dining room and deep into the restaurant. I glanced longingly at the patio but followed along.

She stood up from the booth when she saw me, her pink sundress fluttering against her thighs with the movement. My heart skipped a beat. She tucked a piece of her loosely curled hair behind her ear and smoothed her skirt self-consciously. We were acting like we were trying to impress each other.

Like it was a date.

“Hi,” she said, motioning to the bench across from her. “Hope this is okay.”

“It’s perfect.” I sat down and she returned to her side.

After placing our drink orders, we both stared at the menu. I couldn’t even see the words. All I could think about was the shock of pink against her pale thigh.

I shifted and crossed my legs, willing my body to settle. She was only a pretty woman in a dress. I was a trained assassin. I could do this.

Trying to focus on something else, I turned to look out patio windows that stretched along the entire length of the restaurant. We were too far away to have residual light on the table. It had been a cloudless day, still only in the low eighties with almost no humidity. The sun was crawling its way down the sky, enjoying the long day before a gorgeous sunset.

“Sorry to force you to be inside on a night like this,” Carma offered.

“Oh!” I turned back to face her. “No, it’s okay. Just admiring the view.”

She smiled, then glanced outside. “Skin cancer runs on both sides of the family, and I burn so easily.” She rubbed her arm with her palm. “So, safer to stay inside.”

Even though Michigan only got good sun a few months a year, it was worth it. “That sucks.”

She shrugged. “I’m healthy otherwise. I’m lucky. We all have something, you know?”

“Yeah. We do.” I smiled. “But I like the way you look at it.”

Her French-tipped nail picked at the menu, the corner of her mouth curving up. I stared at her smooth, long fingers, the diamond flower on her right ring finger, her bare left hand.

She twisted the flower with her thumb. “My mom gave it to me when I graduated college. She finished high school with a GED while traveling the world with her parents—military. Fell into the exercise video business after doing some modeling, and her career just took off. She never went to college and wanted me to have the experience she never got to have.”

She toyed with the bottom of her wineglass, then pressed her palm flat against a table. “I went to college for business. I have a weird obsession with spreadsheets, so it seemed like a good fit.” We both laughed. “But I turned down a dream opportunity in Dallas to stay here.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “You’re going to think it’s stupid.”

I shook my head, then bobbed it side to side. “To be fair, that’s because I know present-day you. I might have thought so back then.”

She laughed. “Yeah, all my friends thought I was making a terrible choice.” She dipped her head and smiled. “I was struggling with the decision to leave, and then I found my mom unconscious.” She picked at the tablecloth.

I placed my hand in front of hers, our fingertips only one irreversible movement apart. I longed to comfort Past Carma, the one who found her mother. A flash of something like desperation prickled across my skin before I shoved it back down deep.

Carma’s eyes turned warm. “When she had the idea to start Thinner, it was my turn to give back everything she gave to me. So I stayed.”

I could physically feel the love she had for her mom. This is a woman who wore her emotions on her sleeve. Brave, but stupid. The more exposed a heart was, the easier it was to break.

“I would do anything for my mom,” I admitted, the words tumbling out before I thought them through.

She smiled, the pads of her fingertips over my nails. “Tell me about her. Does she live nearby?”

I shook my head. “Kalamazoo is home base. But she’s headed to Ecuador with her soon-to-be-husband.” My eyes widened and I cleared my throat. I absolutely was not supposed to share anything personal with marks. Not this personal, especially. “Anyway…”

“Do you like her fiancé?”

“He’s great, even though he’s practically my age. But he makes her happy, and they can go off and save the world together.”

She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “And your dad?”

“He’s nearby.”

Her head tilted. “Nearby but not close.” It wasn’t a question.

I glanced down at our hands and slowly lifted my fingers until the tips of mine ran along the tips of hers. We weren’t holding hands, nope. This was just a handshake.

She shifted, resting her fingers in between mine. This still wasn’t holding hands. She was only down to my second knuckle. It wasn’t holding hands; it was holding fingers. Friends could hold fingers. As long as I didn’t admit that the touch of her skin settled me. Anchored me.

I shifted my wrist, brushing my fingers on the back of her hand. She squeezed her fingers against mine. Everything inside of me wound tight. Pull away. You cannot be holding hands with your mark. This is how agents get fired at best or die at worst.

When our waiter showed up to take our orders, we both yanked our hands away as if we were caught cheating by our teacher. Having not bothered to read the menu, I just pointed. Carma ordered, then handed him the menus.

My gaze darted to her glass of white wine. “I thought you couldn’t eat or drink anything not on the Thinner menu?”

She laughed, the sound like wind chimes on a soft breeze. “You’re right, I can’t. But I love this place, and we’re going to be taking up table space for a while. I’ll get it wrapped up later and drop it off at the corner of Maple and Orchard.”

“For Old Joe?” Old Joe—his name for himself—was a veteran who raised money for his family on the weekends. I didn’t know all the details, only that the last recession had hit them hard, landing their store and their apartment above in foreclosure, and they were staying with a friend. When I was carrying cash and saw him out and about, I always stopped by with bottles of water and stayed for a chat.

She nodded. “He served our country. The least I can do is serve him some of my untouched dinner.”

“That’s super cool.”

She shrugged. “It’s just food. We need to do better for our veterans. I keep hoping he’ll call my friend Svetlana who runs a non-profit that may help, which I beg him to do every time I see him. But pride is a powerful thing.”

“We’ll present a united front.”

She laughed. “I like the way you think, Mina.”

Her eyes met mine and I gripped the edge of the table. The effect she was having on me was unsettling. Addicting.

While I ate, we talked about her neighbor’s birthday party—the coffin was a big hit—and she showed me pictures of the cats. Side-stepping the question about when my birthday was, I asked her about the bed and breakfast she wanted to open.

I couldn’t look away from her as she grew more animated. The rest of the room fell away as she dove into her plan for themed rooms and creepy food ideas. When she finished, she looked down at her plate. “I’m sorry. I’ve been going on and on.”

“I enjoyed every minute,” I admitted.

Our waiter came over with a box for Carma’s food, interrupting the moment. She slid the company credit card to our waiter. “Business dinner,” she explained.

“My favorite kind.”

She pulled out a spiral notebook and made a few notes. “Glad to hear. I’ve got three more places on the list to check out, all who have open availability for catering. You in?”

“Absolutely. When’s our next taste test?”

My eyes were glued to her mouth when she bit down on her own smile. “What are you doing for dinner tomorrow night?

“Just text me the time and place.”