Page 21 of Snap Shot

It takes a second to place her, but she was with Indi at Persepolis. The woman Fletch couldn't talk to.

“Sorry,” she says through a puffed-out breath. “You're a little early, Mr. Radek. I'm Ms. Davé's assistant. Behraz Irani.”

We shake, a quick, delicate exchange as Marie passes me off. “Nice meeting you.” I smirk a knowing smirk. This'll be great to rib Fletch with later.

Her fair cheeks fill with a blush. “I’m sorry,this” —her pointer finger circles in the air over her workspace— “is not the usual state of my desk. I was on lunch break and—”

“No worries. I'm not here to judge.”

“Right. I'll let Ms. Davé know you're here.” She whispers into the digital intercom before meeting me at the front of the desk.

Behraz is sweet. Her eyes, while a darker brown than Indi's, brighten and whir to life as we chat, her hands animating the brief conversation about her day and the nice weather. She giggles between every other word. I didn't realize I wasthatgood-looking. Well, Idid, but the ego boost doesn’t hurt.

Through Indi's door is not where I'll get it.

She dons an unamused smile in contrast to the pleasant atmosphere of her office. Hints of cinnamon and cranberry intensify as we near her desk, reminiscent of Thanksgiving and Christmas at Babi and Deda's farm. Nostalgia warms my chest.

Ottawa's summer sun shines through the floor-to-ceiling windows, filling the room with a mid-day glow. Its rays reach Indi's big, beautiful sable eyes and transform them into the deepest pools of honey. Comfort washes over me in her presence once more, this time sending heated blood to my gut. And downward. For a second, anyway.

“Mr. Radek. Have a seat.” And with her frigid tone,poof. Disappeared. The moment's gone, vanishing like her secretary behind the heavy wooden door.

Time to charm the pants off her. No, not pants. God,no. Not pants. Everyone in this room will be keeping their pants on. She's not wearing pants. Quit thinking about her without pants!

“Hey, Indi,” I intone, reclining into the cream fabric of the small armchairs. I can be cool in front of my boyhood crush. Cool and casual.

The lower lids of her eyes twitch, obligatory smile straightening as she sits. Those long fingers lace together when bringing her elbows to the clean desktop. “Please. Ms. Davé.”

Oops. That had the opposite effect for what I was going for. We'll try again. “Aw, Indi. It's just us now.” I cross an ankle over my knee, getting comfortable and clasping both hands behind my neck. “No need to be so formal. How are you?”

“I'mgreat,” she shoots back. Snippy.

“Looks like it. How ya been? Where ya been?” I maintain my grin. She can't keep up the ice-queen front forever.

Her nostrils flare. “Very busy, Mr. Radek. As have you, it seems.”

Was that a dig? “Have I?”

She shrugs, her eyebrows jumping for a moment. “Clients don't visit with me forfun.”

“It’s a dirty job but someone's gotta do it.” How can she not laugh at that? I'm funny! I'm funny, okay?

Indi's eyes roll closed with a sigh, black, lush lashes leaving a shadow on her cheekbones. Fuck, she's pretty. Be prettier if she was kneel—

She clears her throat. “As you know, this is a time-sensitive appointment. We bill by the hour. While I don't doubt you can afford it…”

“It's not a problem.” My smile holds strong, determined to retrieve the real Indi. The one I caught the tiniest glimpse of in the locker room. “I don't mind taking the extra time to catch up with myol’friend.”

The tips of her ears tinge a rosy pink. If I was closer, I'd see steam swirling from them. Indi bends toward me, wearing a cordial smile. My heart skips, elbows resting over my knees as I instinctively bend forward, too.

“I'm not sure what you're up to, but let's get one thing straight: we played on the same team for a few months aschildren. It doesn't change anything. We're adults now. You are my client, Mr. Radek. I am your lawyer. Nothing more.”

How wrong she is. It changeseverything. Especially when she looks likethat. And especially with how we left things. Why she won't admit our past friendship is beyond me.Fuck, if I'm not gonna find out. She wants to play games? I compete for a living.

“Ah, yes. Mylawyer. Your boss couldn't find anyone moreappropriate, eh?”

Call me twisted, but I kinda like how Indi's jaw ticks at the jab of her own words thrown back, chest rising and falling in patient breaths.

“Mr. Radek…”

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