Page 11 of Breakup Games

“You sure? I can get us a car.”

“It’s a nice night out.”

“It is,” he agrees and we start walking. I keep a careful distance, and once we round the corner, he takes a little device out of his ear and puts it in his pocket. Okay, I suppose he is legit.

“I should, um, tell my friends I’m going out,” I say. “They have my location.”

“Smart,” he says back. “And yes, tell them you’re going to Miller’s Tavern but refrain from mentioning you’re being questioned by the FBI.”

“Okay.” I nod and get my phone. Kat is the only one who’ll watch where I am. Elsie is either in bed now or getting ready for bed and Zara is working nights at the hospital and every night is a busy night when you’re a nurse in the ER in Chicago. I hate lying to my friends so I send a non-lie that’s not the truth either.

Me: Met a cute guy…gonna grab a drink with him at Millers near the hotel.

I put my phone back in my purse and quicken my pace, trying to keep up with Mr. FBI until we get to the tavern. We take a booth in the back.

“Let’s start with the basics,” Mason says, flicking his eyes around the tavern. It’s probably a habit he’s picked up anddoesn’t even realize he’s doing anymore as an FBI agent. Hyper vigilance can be learned, and also be the result of experiences…most commonly trauma. I know for myself, I’m always aware of everything going on around me because of years of having to defend and explain myself to someone who would argue about the sky not being blue, but a specific shade of cyan.

“What’s your name?”

“Mira,” I tell him. “Mira Martin.”

“Okay, Mira, and what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a therapist.”

“And how did you meet the man you were having drinks with?”

The fact that he’s not saying Enzo’s name is deliberate, I’m sure of it.

“Kind of a funny story,” I start, deciding to just tell the entire truth. The truth usually comes out anyway, and having to dig your way out of a tangled web of lies is less fun than just spitting out the truth from the start. “I was hired to flirt with him to see if he would flirt back.”

That was definitely not the answer that Mason was expecting. He looks at me for a second and then smiles. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” I reply.

“Why?”

“To see if he would be loyal. The woman who hired me has been dating him for the last several months and was suspicious that he wasn’t faithful, even though they said they were exclusive.”

“Did he pass the test?” He smirks, already knowing the answer.

“Hell, no. They never do.”

“Never do? So you’ve done this before?”

“Yes,” I say back, holding his gaze. “It’s, uh, something I do in addition to one-on-one sessions.”

“What kind of therapist are you?” He tips his head to the side and I hate how adorable he looks on top of being drop dead gorgeous.

“If you really want to know, I specialize in couples therapy and often continue seeing my female clients after the relationship ends. My areas of expertise are trauma and attachment styles.”

“I thought couples therapists were supposed to fix relationships.”

“Not all relationships are worth fixing and I’m not going to sugarcoat anything to my clients just to keep them coming back.”

“Interesting.”

A waitress comes over to take our order. Mason orders a beer and a basket of cheese fries for the table. I just get an iced tea.

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