Page 68 of Resurrection

Whenever he becomes the blustering old man, he’s covering a lie. A weird tell, but that’s his. He goes too far with his denial.

“All these years she never talked about it—like it didn’t happen,” he says. “I don’t understand what’s gotten into her.”

“Are you going to tell me why she’s upset or just talk in half-truths?”

He glances up at me as though he’s realized what he’s saying. “I can’t tell you. Her shame, not mine.”

I scratch the nape of my neck and decide I’ll never get to the bottom of their issues. My mother and I aren’t close—not anymore. When I broke my engagement to Eric, a switch flipped in her. Every time I went to see her, she asked about him. When would I forgive him? When would I take him back? He was, after all, such aniceman.

“When are you returning to Chicago? Regular work needs to resume,” Eric says as he polishes off the last of his breakfast.

An image of Finn, surrounded by plush white covers pops into my head, and I have to suppress a smile. “Technically I’m still working right now. I came to identify Valeriya, my employee. Prior to that I was in Russia trying to track our stolen goods.”

“And before that you were in Switzerland harboring a fugitive.” Eric’s gaze is stony when it meets mine.

The urge to tell him I’ve been harboring Finn all over the place is almost irresistible. “My personal life is mine.”

“When it interferes with business—”

“My father”—I gesture toward my dad—“can give me a hard time about mixing my personal life and my job. He’s my father. He used to run and own everything. I’ll take that. From you? Not one more word. If you can’t remember your place in my life and in this company, you’ll find yourself on your ass hunting for a job.”

Eric raises his hands. “All right. All right. Settle down, Carys.”

My father glances at his watch. “We need to catch our plane.” He rises from his seat and tosses his napkin beside his plate. “You’ll take care of the bill, Carys?”

“Of course,” I say. “We’ll be heading back to Switzerland later today. You can call me at the house if there is anything urgent. I’ll be trying to sort out a few things while I’m there.”

Such as what Finn will do for a job or how I’m going to get his money. He hates being too dependent on me.

My father gives a curt nod, but Eric’s face is stormy as he stands. “You won’t keep him there forever.”

I tilt my head at him. “He’s safe there. Whether he stays there forever is up to him and me.”

His gaze searches mine for a moment. “He’s a murdering fugitive. There’s no forever with a guy like him.”

“Not your concern who I spend forever with, Eric.”

His eyes narrow and then his face clears, and he smirks. His fingertips trace the side of my face, and I stare him down, cool, defiant. He kisses my cheek. My father waits impatiently at the door. He tips his head toward the outside. With one last lingering look, Eric follows my father out.

“What was that about?” Jay drains the last of his coffee.

I sit back in my chair. “I don’t know. Did he always treat me like that?”

“He did.”

“Huh.” Silence fills the space between us for a beat. “Finn knows we’re here?”

“He does.”

“I’m in trouble.”

Jay’s lips twist in amusement. “You’re probably in for a tongue lashing.”

A burst of laughter is out before I can catch it. I dig money out of my purse and drop it onto the table. I give him a sly smile. “I do enjoy the way his tongue lashes.”

“I heard.” He grins. “My room is right next to yours, and those walls aren’t as thick as you’d think. Then my wife heard the two of you through the phone, and I got an actual tongue lashing on how I don’t do enough for her anymore.” He chuckles. “Might have to get pro-tips from Finn. Calm my wife the fuck down.”

I shake my head and hold my hand over my eyes as I laugh. My cheeks are hot, but I am also impossibly, absurdly happy.

---