Page 32 of End Game

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him.

Phin assessed her for a long, uncomfortable moment before he said, “I won’t be long.”

“Oh, by the way,” she said as if the thought just occurred to her. “Could you let Cilla and Cruz know that I spoke to my contact at the EPA? The attorney general’s office is about to file a suit against Randolph Industries.” The news would no doubt be bittersweet for Cilla, since her father was the CEO.

“So, it’s happening.”

Kayla nodded. “My source indicated the AG has a stack of evidence against the company. They’ll likely settle out of court.”

“Timeline?”

“Probably by summer.”

“I don’t know whether to celebrate or give Cilla a hug.”

“Both might be in order. The hug especially. They just got the news that Brittany Tate, the little girl living on the farm Randolph wanted to buy, is cancer free.”

“Cilla will be so relieved.” He tilted his head, considering her. “You don’t want to deliver the good news yourself?”

She shook her head. “I’ll leave that pleasure for you, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

“Good.” She waggled her fingers toward the door. “Vinaigrette dressing, please.”

Phin turned away, already texting Cilla with the good news.

Diversion accomplished.

Leaving the conference room, she went back to her office and busied herself for five full minutes before swiveling toward the bank of windows behind her.

She peered down at the sidewalk. Waited for a sandy blond head and light brown head to appear. Ten seconds later, Luke and Phin emerged and their tall, lean forms turned toward Bailey’s.

Kayla opened the desk drawer where she kept her purse. She speared her hand inside to retrieve two items, then as casually as she could manage, she closed her office door and strode through the firm’s common area.

Thankfully, everyone had returned to their desks or were using the restrooms after the long meeting. She left the offices of Krowne and Associates and headed for the row of elevators. The ride down seemed to take an eternity. When the doors pinged open, she shot for the front entrance.

The moment she pushed through the glass door, a breathtakingly handsome man wearing a tailored coat over a white button-down and black slacks pushed away from the granite column where he’d been leaning. Waiting for her.

Mason Wade nodded, matching her quick stride.

“Which way?” she asked.

“Left.”

They strode side by side until they reached a sleek black Mercedes Benz EQS 450+ sedan parked along the road. He broke off, increasing his speed in order to open the driver’s side door.

A commotion across the street snagged their attention.

“No handouts, I said.” The thick-chested man inside the food truck shooed a mother and two small children away, like they were dogs begging at the table.

All three wore heavy backpacks and their clothes appeared to carry months’ worth of grime. Kayla’s heart contracted at the sight.

Asheville was a beautiful, eclectic city, full of warm people and live music on every corner. Like any tourist destination though, the mountain town had a number of homeless people populating parks, empty storefronts, and busy intersections.

Kayla had done what she could in the way of supporting local shelters, food pantries, and backing elected officials determined to execute real solutions.

“Asshole,” Mason muttered before turning back to her. “Got your key fob?”

---