Page 142 of Passions in Death
But she knew how to light the match.
“When my work matters put me in a mood, you want to know why.”
“Your moods are many,” he muttered. “And it’s not at all the same.”
Okay, sometimes dealing with it meant pushing for a fight to burn off the brood, more with a torch than a match.
“Oh, because your work’s so important and beyond my limited scope with me just being a cop and you being the great and powerful Roarke.”
“Now she quotes from classic vids.” He shoved up. It wasn’t the icy fire in his eyes but all heat.
“I asked a simple question,” she tossed back. “Instead of a simple answer, you lob insults.”
“I stated a simple fact, but take it as you will. Now, for feck’s sake, give me a bit of time. Christ knows I give you all you need there. Go deal with your board and scour your daily notes, and leave me to this.”
She said, simply, “No.”
The cat, who’d watched the exchange, decided to desert the field and jogged out the office door as Roarke rounded on her.
“This is my bloody space, for my bleeding business, so move on to yours. This has nothing to do with you, so go see to your own.”
“You are my own.”
With that, she watched the anger drain out of him as if she’d turned a tap.
“Ah, fuck it all.”
When he dragged a hand through his hair, when it wasn’t ice, or fire, or brooding in his eyes, but desolation, she stepped to him. Put her arms around him.
“Tell me.”
He lowered his forehead to hers. “I had to fire someone today, someone who’s worked for me a decade.”
“Who?”
“You know her a bit, I’d think. Alyce Avery.”
Eve did a quick run through her mental files. “Okay, yeah, she’s been to the holiday parties. Why did you have to fire her?”
“She stole from me—which is a haughty ledge for a thief to stand on.”
“No, it’s not—and former,” she reminded him, laying a hand on his cheek.
“As if that wasn’t enough, she tried to throw the blame on someone else to save herself. She could’ve come to me.” He drew away to pace to the window and stare out. “Why didn’t she come to me when she found herself in a squeeze?”
“What squeeze?”
“All that came out, didn’t it, too late. Her son started gambling and got into considerable debt to the wrong sort. So she skimmed and shuffled—of course, intending to pay it all back. And when the skimming and shuffling came out, she tried to blame her assistant, which only made it that much worse, didn’t it?”
He turned back. “I’d have helped her, but she broke trust between us, and would’ve let someone innocent pay the price. So now her life’s in shambles.”
“Are you pressing charges?”
The ice came back. “She’ll pay it back. She’ll have time, but she’ll pay every penny back. That’s my decision, and that’s the end of it.”
“Okay.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “So the cop doesn’t point out she broke the law?”
