Page 82 of Between the Lines

That makes me snort. “No.”

Mandy is fantastic, but there’s no way she’d think the same about me after a week of working together.

“That says a lot about them,” Charlotte says thoughtfully. “They must be very good at compromising, and probably also atseparating business and pleasure. As siblings, their arguments are likely fierce. I’m guessing they’re not afraid of getting a little dirty.”

I look at her for a long moment.

“What?” she asks and pushes her hair back. “Don’t you think that’s true?”

“I think that’s a very valuable analysis.”

“It might be completely wrong.”

“Tell me after dinner,” I say, “what you think about them. You’re good at observing people. Observe them for me.”

We pull up to Velveteen. The restaurant has valet service, and, as much as I’m used to it, it always makes me feel uneasy to hand my keys to someone else. He better be good at parking.

In the passenger seat, Charlotte is unbuckling herself. “So now you’re using me to further your business deals. I get it.” But she’s smiling, and there’s excitement in her voice.

“Use all resources available. That’s Business 101.”

“I thought the prime objective is to always make a profit. That’s what you said, weeks ago.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t quote me, Chaos.”

“But that’s my job!” she says and blinks in exaggeration. “I’m already planning on getting a tattoo of one of your sayings.”

She’s ridiculous. I lean in closer. “Really. Where?”

“I was thinking a tramp stamp.”

I laugh. “No, never. Tattoo my words on your ribs, Chaos, so I’ll always be close to your heart.”

“You think very highly of yourself,” she says.

I lean in even closer. “That’s the?—”

There’s a sharp knock on my window. The valet. I lean back with a sigh. “Right. Showtime.”

Charlotte reaches for the door handle.

“Do not open that,” I tell her.

She rolls her eyes but removes her hand. “Fine.”

I hand the keys to the valet and walk around the hood of the car. The air is cool, in the LA kind of way, and I love these spring months. When you can still be outside without dying.

I’ve been to this restaurant plenty of times. Still, the throng of people waiting in line for a table keeps growing longer. This place has an obvious problem. They’ve become too popular.

I open Charlotte’s car door.

She looks at me with a wry smile in her eyes. It’s one of my favorite expressions of hers.

“My savior,” she says. “My white knight!”

I roll my eyes. “Get out here.”

She bounces a little on the balls of her feet and looks around. Then her eyes clock the line. “Oh, shoot.”

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