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But duty drove her forward.
Jessica forced herself to compartmentalize her feelings as best she could. Before Samuel, it had only been Robin who mattered this much to her. And they were doing this for Robin and all the people like her who would be hurt by Maxwell Edward if he wasn’t stopped.
What they were doing was important.
Jessica walked with the crowd down a few doors. A simple sign over an aged, wooden door proclaimed it a pub. She pushed the door open and descended some stairs down into the basement level bar. The exposed brick sported random scrawling signatures, posters, and stickers from previous patrons. The lighting was dim. Despite the grunge aesthetic, the floors were clean, and the furniture made from solid wood polished until it shone. A massive bar stretched one side of the space with neon lights running under the glass bar top. Bottles decorated mirrored shelves on the wall. What struck her as odd was the curved ceiling. Like this used to be part of the subway or something.
Maybe it had?
It was an interesting place, that was certain.
But there were also very few ways out, which was one of the leading concerns about this meeting.
Jessica had pointed out that few exits meant a small team could cover them with no trouble, but Samuel hadn’t appreciated that input.
Well, too bad.
She let her gaze slide over the room, but didn’t see a man by himself anywhere.
Try as she might, Oliver hadn’t given her a description of himself. He might not even be a man, for all she knew.
Jessica crossed to the bar and ordered whatever was on tap. She wouldn’t drink, but she looked less suspicious with her hands occupied holding onto a frothy beverage. Which was a shame, really. Her favorite cider in the world was exclusive to the UK.
She took her drink to a tall table to the left of the entrance in a darker corner close to the end of the bar. From this vantage point, she could watch most of the room freely.
The clock ticked down to the appointed time.
Still no Oliver.
Where was he? Was he going to stand her up? What would she do if he did?
Jessica wasn’t certain she could reach out to their mutual for much help. He considered the debt paid now that they’d been connected. Did Oliver know that?
Shit.
What would she say to the others if he didn’t show up?
A man jogged down the stairs. Alone. And paused on the last stair, his gaze searching the bar much like hers had. She held her breath as his gaze reached her and stopped.
This was him.
She wasn’t entirely certain until he took a step toward her, but even then she knew this was Oliver.
If she had to guess, he was around thirty, white, with dark, curling hair, and a clean face. From their exchanges, she hadn’t expected him to be a fit, attractive guy. He’d given off more cringey geek in his parent’s basement vibes.
He pointed at her as he came within five feet. “Jess?”
She wrapped her hand around the beer, ready to toss it at him if she needed to. “Oliver?”
A smile spread across his face that made her squirm. And not in a good way. There was that uncomfortable vibe again. Yeah, he was not the kind of guy she wanted to watch her drink while she ran to the bathroom, that was for damn certain. No matter what happened here, she could not go anywhere alone with him, that much she knew.
He grabbed an empty stool and sat while his brown eyes traveled over her. She resisted the urge to shudder and lean away.
She had known going in he wasn’t exactly a good person. They wouldn’t be in this situation if he was completely above-board.
“I can’t believe you bloody came,” he said.
She smiled. “Here I am. You kind of forced my hand on this.”