Chapter 58
Lena's POV
The call came while I was heating up leftover pasta in the makeshift break room—a corner of our new office with a microwave, a mini-fridge, and two mismatched chairs Diana had pulled from somewhere.
"Lena?" Eleanor's voice was bright, energetic. "You free tomorrow afternoon?"
I glanced at my calendar on my phone. Empty, except for the notation I'd entered days ago: Sign termination papers with Rowan.
"I might have something," I said carefully. "Why?"
"I need a partner for the shooting range. My friend bailed on me last minute—some excuse about a conference call she can't reschedule." She laughed. "Which is obviously bullshit, but whatever. You shoot, right?"
I did. My grandfather had taught me when I was twelve, insisting that every Grant should know how to handle a firearm with precision and composure. I hadn't touched a gun in years, though.
"It's been a while."
"Perfect. So you won't completely destroy me and make me look incompetent." A pause. "Come on, Lena. This is a friend thing, not a work thing. I promise I won't talk about estates or trusts for at least two hours."
A friend thing.
The phrase settled in my chest, warm and unfamiliar.
I thought about Rowan, still hiding in his guest room, pretending to be sick. About the unsigned papers sitting in my desk drawer. About the fact that I'd already let this drag on for three extra days.
One more day won't matter, I told myself.
"Alright," I said. "Text me the address."
Eleanor's delighted laugh came through the line. "You're the best. I'll see you at two."
---
By late afternoon, the four of us—Diana, Rachel, Sophia, and I—had finished organizing the week's files. The office still smelled faintly of fresh paint and new furniture, but it was starting to feel less like a temporary setup and more like something real.
"That's it for today," I said, closing the last folder. "Good work, everyone."
Rachel stretched, her shoulders audibly cracking. "I can't believe it's only been a week. It feels like we've been here forever."
"In a good way or a bad way?" Diana asked dryly.
"Good," Rachel said quickly. "Definitely good."
I leaned against the edge of my desk, considering. "Actually—I was thinking we could do dinner this weekend. Celebrate making it through the first week. My treat."
Sophia's face lit up. "Really?"
"Really." I felt the corner of my mouth lift slightly. "Nothing fancy. Just... a chance to get to know each other outside of case files."
Diana studied me for a moment, then nodded. "I'm in."
"Me too," Rachel said immediately.
Sophia grinned. "Wouldn't miss it."
"Saturday night, then," I said. "I'll make a reservation and send you the details."
They filtered out one by one, leaving me alone in the quiet office. I stayed for another twenty minutes, tidying up the few remaining papers on my desk, before finally grabbing my bag and heading home.
Home—where Rowan was still allegedly bedridden.
I pushed the thought away.
---
The next afternoon, I finished my work early—a rarity, but I'd deliberately kept my schedule light. I changed into dark jeans and a fitted black sweater, pulled my hair into a low ponytail, and drove across town to the address Eleanor had sent.
Silverton Indoor Range was tucked into an industrial area near the docks, all concrete and steel. I parked and made my way inside, the faint smell of gun oil and metal filling the air.
And then I saw them.
Rowan and Colin, standing near the check-in counter.
I stopped mid-step.
Colin noticed me first. His eyebrows shot up, and a slow, knowing grin spread across his face. "Well, well."
Rowan turned.
For a split second, something flashed in his eyes—surprise, maybe, or discomfort—but it vanished almost immediately, replaced by that infuriatingly neutral mask he always wore.
I forced myself to keep walking, stopping a few feet away.
"Rowan," I said coolly. "What a surprise."
His jaw tightened slightly. "Lena."
I let the silence stretch for a beat, then tilted my head. "I didn't realize you were such an enthusiast. Strange—I don't remember you ever mentioning a passion for shooting. Especially not while you were bedridden just yesterday."
Colin made a choking sound that might have been a laugh.
Rowan's expression didn't change, but I saw the faint tension in his shoulders. "I'm feeling better."
"Clearly." I kept my tone light, pleasant, the kind of polite venom that couldn't be called out directly. "Miraculous recovery."
"Lena!"
Eleanor appeared from the hallway leading to the ranges, waving. She jogged over, her ponytail swinging, completely oblivious to the tension crackling in the air.
"You made it!" She beamed at me, then glanced at Rowan and Colin. "Oh good, you guys are here too. This'll be fun."
Colin's grin widened. "Yeah. Fun."
I turned to Eleanor, my voice carefully measured. "You know them?"
"Know them?" She laughed. "Colin's been dragging me to these things for months. And Rowan—well, he usually bails, so I'm shocked he actually showed up today."
"Shocked," I echoed, looking directly at Rowan. "That makes two of us."
He met my gaze, his eyes unreadable.
Colin cleared his throat. "So, Eleanor. How'd you end up friends with Lena?"
Eleanor shrugged. "We worked a case together. And honestly? She's amazing. Smart, principled, doesn't take anyone's bullshit. Only an idiot wouldn't want to be friends with her."
I blinked, caught off guard by the straightforward sincerity in her voice.
Colin's grin turned absolutely gleeful. "Right. Of course."
Rowan shot him a look. "Colin."
"What?" Colin's tone was all innocence. "I'm just saying, Eleanor has excellent taste in people."
"Shut up," Rowan muttered.