Page 42 of Perfect Composition
“I’m her brother, Ward.”
My body goes completely rigid. I move subtly closer to Austyn.
“Dr. Kensington, what you saw that night isn’t what you thought.” Angie’s feather-soft voice captures my attention. And when I search her face, I don’t find a victim. I see a survivor.
Trusting my instincts, I hold out my hand. “Mr. Burke.”
He shakes it. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“For?”
His gaze slides over Angie’s smiling one. His lips curve slightly. “For making me see what I should have long ago.”
Angie blushes before she picks up a tablet on her desk. “Let me just text Carys and tell her we’re ready out here. Okay. Will everyone follow me? We’re going to gather in the conference room.”
The heavy wood door is opened by Ward, and we step across the threshold.
My first impression is opulence. Warm, rich wood is intermixed with open, spacious glass. If it wasn’t for the very enormous desk set off to the side, I’d think I was in the lobby of a fancy hotel with the small sitting area off to the side. An attractive man stands and holds out his hand. “Hello. My name is David Lennan. I’m the senior paralegal here at LLF, LLC. Welcome.”
Austyn shakes his hand first. “Mr. Lennan.”
“Please make it David. We’re all on a first-name basis here.” He releases my daughter’s hand and holds out his hand to mine. “David.”
I hesitate briefly before I give over. “Paige.”
“Welcome, Paige. Carys is just wrapping up a call. We have everything set up in the conference room. We thought we might be more comfortable there instead of crowded in her office.” He gestures us forward.
Angie and Ward fall in step behind us as we all make our way into the bright space dominated by a highly polished mahogany table. At the head of the table are files neatly stacked. Notepads and pens are laid around at every other chair. Assuming that to be the spot where Carys will sit, I deliberately seat myself at the foot. Austyn drops down next to me, her back to the magnificent view of the city skyline.
“Can I get either of you some coffee? We also have an espresso machine, so any sort of latte wouldn’t be a problem,” Angie offers.
“Regular coffee is fine for me. Black,” Austyn pipes up.
“I’d be grateful for some. With cream if that’s not too much trouble.” My lips tip up slightly.
“None at all. Ward? David?” When both of them nod, she disappears, closing the door behind her.
David smiles at us. “Based on your website, Kensington, I understand you’re from Texas?”
“I am.”
“I grew up in Tornado Alley myself. It’s one of the things year after year I don’t really miss about living in New York.”
Austyn laughs. “I haven’t been here a full year to appreciate that part of it yet.”
“There’s a pleasure about being able to sleep through the night because there’s no sirens waking you up at all hours.”
“I don’t know about that, David. Despite the quality of my hotel, I heard quite a few sirens on the street last night,” I quip to ease the rising tension as we wait for Angie to come back with coffee.
Or Carys.
His smile is genuine. “Angie mentioned you’re an audiologist?”
I flush. “I handed Marco Houde a pair of earplugs at his nightclub the night I went to hear Austyn play and suggested he put them in.”
“Mama, you didn’t,” Austyn groans. Her head falls forward into her hands.
Ward and David chuckle.
