Page 19 of Unsure in Love

I nodded. Ken was an ex-cop and his skills as a PI were freakishly good. I wasn’t surprised he’d found the guy already.

“She’s coming in today to meet with me, all the way from Nebraska.”

I tensed for a moment. Nebraska? Where was Cass from? Then I felt stupid for even reacting. As if there was a chance the client was her. Recovering from my moment of foolery, I said, “I don’t know why your client would waste her time and money searching for some douchebag who abandoned his kids.”

“Closure, man. Sometimes if you don’t get that, shit drives you crazy.”

I glowered at him because I knew where he was about to go with the argument.

“That’s why,” he said, pointing a finger at me, “you should call that woman.”

Jaw clenched, I seethed. I’d tell Ken Cass’s name soon because him referring to her as “that woman” irked me. I wasn’t even sure why.

Maybe because she’s special.

I nixed that thought immediately. It didn’t matter how I felt about Cass, a practical stranger. It was one night, and I wouldn’t see her again. Besides, she pretty much told me to take a hike. “Just shut up about it already, Ken. You’re like a dog with a bone.”

He shrugged. “I care about you—”

“I’m touched.”

He smirked. “Don’t be an asshole, Alvarez. I’m just saying you seemed so smitten with that woman.”

“Smitten? Good grief.” I sighed. “Cassandra. Her name is Cassandra.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve just never seen you so interested—” He frowned. “Cassandra?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Huh.” He stroked his chin. “Cassandra, what?”

Turning to him, I frowned. I almost asked why her surname mattered, but I dismissed it. “Bennet.”

“Huh,” he grunted again and sat back in his chair. Ken regarded me with something like amusement and disbelief.

My eyes narrowed. “Ken, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing. Nothing.” He waved me off, but his little smirk made me suspicious.

“If you’re thinking about going behind my back to reach out to Cassandra because you think I’m smitten, so help me, I’ll kick your ass.”

Ken held up both palms. “Why the hell would I do something like that? Jesus, Damian, I’m not Cupid or your fairy godmother.” He snorted his disgust but went back to looking smug. He wore a look that said he knew something no one else did.

I got up and straightened my jacket, all the while scowling at Ken. “I’m heading back upstairs. I’ve got work to do.”

“You always have work to do,” he grumbled.

“You sound like Aunt Lucia.”

My beloved aunt constantly lectured me about working too much. Just yesterday, she gave me her usual speech. “Hijo, you work too much. You don’t even have time to meet a nice woman. I’ll kick the bucket before you settle down and give me grandnieces and nephews.”

I gave her my usual response. “Tía, stop rushing yourself to the grave.”

Ken glanced at his phone. “How about you direct my client to my office on the way out? I just got a text saying she’s in the building.”

Perplexed by his conspiratorial expression, I shrugged. “Okay.”

Ken pursed his lips and folded his arms. Why in the world was he acting like he was in on the biggest joke?

---