Page 87 of Possession

She took an inordinately long time to reply. In the meantime, I made arrangements for my helicopter. We’d need fast, discreet transportation to the city, and Grace loved to fly. Assuming I convinced her to join me.

Assuming she ever answered.

At the same time, I didn’t want to have the helicopter arrive until the building was nearly cleared out. The last thing I wanted was attention on us. She was still my assistant, and I was still her employer. Just because more people knew about us now wasn’t a reason to get sloppy. There were still protocols and boundaries, even if it was my own company.

I’d arranged the appropriate flight clearances and ascertained where I’d be touching down in Brooklyn when Grace finally deigned to respond.

Grace

Depends. I’m waiting to hear if Chris Evans will buy me that pizza he promised.

The fist of anger that seized my gut was instantaneous. The jealousy twined within it was so much worse.

Who exactly is Chris Evans? Is he one of our clients? And why is he offering you Italian food?

Again, with the slow response. I tapped my pen on the keys until I pitched it aside and gave in to the need to demand more answers.

Furthermore, perhaps I was under the mistaken impression that this was an exclusive relationship, but pizza dates should be cleared first.

Nothing.

I was about to send another likely-to-be unanswered message when a picture formed on my screen of a guy in a tight blue and silver superhero outfit, brandishing a red, blue, and white shield. What the hell?

Did she think this was the time for jokes?

Grace

Meet Chris Evans. No, he’s not one of our clients. You wish. This fine sir is Captain America, and he’s far beyond your pay grade, Mr. Carson.

Irritation had me snapping back before logic descended.

No one is beyond my pay grade, Ms. Copeland.

Some movie actor, for God’s sake. She thought she was funny, and I was?—

Not funny at all. Actually, a little pathetic.

Clearly, I needed to bone up on pop culture, once I finished with all this cloak and dagger nonsense.

Grace

To return to your original question, my plans tonight may be subject to change.

May be?

Grace

Depends what you’re offering.

I debated the best way to phrase my request. Of course I could’ve been one hundred percent honest, and I did have a momentary qualm that I should take that route. But the part of me that wasn’t sure what puzzle pieces I even had on the table warned me to tread carefully.

Not because I couldn’t trust Grace, but because I didn’t want her to be hurt. Not by what I might discover about myself…or about her and her grandmother.

I’d like to take you on a date.

I rolled my chair closer to the screen of names and addresses in a quarter mile area of the suspect ones in Brooklyn. I fully expected a deluge of IMs the likes of which I’d never seen.

If you waved the promise of romance in front of a woman, she nearly always swooned and offered you whatever you wanted. At least that was what Jack had always insisted, that romance was the way to a woman’s heart.

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