Page 84 of Reclaim (Deadly Hearts 3)

“You live in the city?” she asks, not overthinking my faux pas.

“Mm-hm,” I lie and drop my bags on the couch. “You like Chinese?”

“Love it,’ she replies with a smile, and goes to Tiff to lead her further into the apartment and sits her down.

I make the call and ask them to bring a couple of bottles of wine as well, and then we settle down, kicking our shoes off and settling on the sofas.

Linda regards me closely with eyes that are exactly the same as Layton’s. She is a gorgeous woman, with her pitch-black hair and luminous eyes, even dressed in her baggy frumpy clothes. It tells me everything I need to know about what happened to her and it makes me so mad, I see red. I hope Layton killed the fucker who hurt her.

“Layton hasn’t told me much about you,” she says. “I only just found out about you today. He just said you could help me rebuild my life.”

“Same,” I murmur.

She snorts again. “Why does that not surprise me? He is about as aloof as a rock.”

“Hahaha,” I laugh loudly. “That is definitely an accurate assessment.”

“He said he is in love with you. Do you love him back?”

I give her a shrewd look. “This was supposed to be all about you, not me.”

“That’s a no.”

“Definitely not a no,” I correct her firmly. “I adore him.”

She smiles smugly, having gotten me to admit what she wanted to hear. She turns her attention to Beth.

“So where do you fit in?”

“I work for Ruby,” she says.

“Oh, fun. What do you do?”

We exchange a glance that Linda picks up on instantly. She is smart as a whip.

“Uhm, I work at Black Widows,” she says evasively.

Linda’s gaze shoots back to mine. “Oh, is that yours?”

I nod.

“I’ve been in a few times. Well, it was a while ago. I don’t get out much these days.” The shadow that was lurking, clouds her eyes.

She blinks and shakes her head, plastering a smile on her face. Wow. She is strong. But I’m going to push her and hope I’m right about her. “What do you do?” I ask steadily.

Her expression changes instantly. It darkens, but she rallies herself to answer me. “I used to be an accountant. I haven’t been to work for a…long time. They fired me.”

“What?” I blurt out, my rage igniting. “They fired you?”

She nods. “It’s fine. I didn’t go in…they were within their rights.”

“No, they are dicks,” Tiff pipes up out of the blue. “Men? Had to be men. They don’t get it.”

“Three men, and none of them got it,” Linda says quietly.

“Are you looking to go back to work?” I ask, an idea suddenly sprouting.

Linda nods slowly. “I want to rebuild my life. After what happened…” She gives us each a knowing look that tells me she recognizes the signs, as we do with her. No words are needed. It’s there for us to see and to hopefully heal. “I’m done being the victim,” she finishes determinedly.

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