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“But you feel something for her?” he asks.

I nod. “Something, but there’s a barrier. It’s a work thing.”

He pats my shoulder. “I get it. She works for the CIA, too.”

I scrub a hand over my face while holding in a laugh. “You do know that Calder wasn’t serious when he told you that.”

Calder Frost is my oldest friend, and for a time, he was my brother’s mentor. A few years ago, Calder was determined to uncover exactly what I do for a living. Whenever I’d visit his art studio to check out his metal sculptures, he’d toss questions at me left and right about my job. The suggestion that I worked for the Central Intelligence Agency took me by surprise enough that I didn’t answer with a resounding no immediately. I paused for at least three or four seconds. Calder took that to mean that there was a good chance I was employed by the federal government.

I assured him that my daily focus was on helping men become the partners the women in this city deserve. It took a bit, but he finally dropped the CIA talk and took me at my word.

“I know.” Bauer nods. “By the way, Calder says hi. They’re hanging out in Spain this month.”

Theybeing Calder and his wife, Raelyn.

Calder didn’t need my help in finding the love of his life. They crossed paths on a wintry Manhattan evening, and the rest is history. Knowing he’s happy and traveling with the woman he loves is enough to put a smile on my face.

“I’ll text him today,” I say aloud, making a mental note to do just that.

“I know Calder is the guy you usually go to when you have a problem,” he says, assuming something that isn’t grounded in reality.

I’ve always dealt with personal problems on my own.

“But I’m happy to step in as his proxy,” he offers. “Truth be told, I thought there was a slim chance I might find you on our running route, so I set off a few minutes early this morning. I’m glad I did.”

“Am I that predictable?” I ask, swiping my hand over my forehead.

“You run to burn off stress,” he notes. “So share that stress. Let me help you figure this out, William.”

I’m so damn tempted to take him up on his offer, but I can’t. I need to trudge through this on my own.

“I have a better idea.” I move to stand. “I’ll race you to your place. Whoever gets there first gets to order breakfast on the other’s dime.”

He’s on his feet, too. “I’m craving lobster eggs benedict, so there’s no way in hell you’re winning this.”

24

Opal

“You just missed William.”

My gaze snaps in Chelsie’s direction before it whips toward the door of the coffee shop. “I did?”

Nodding, she taps the order screen in front of her. “I’m guessing you want a coffee. Or are you still on the orange tea trend?”

I’d hardly call a few cups of citrus-infused tea a trend, but she’s the expert. “Coffee works.”

“That should be our motto.” She raises her hand above her head to point at the café’s signature sign that hangs above the menu board. “Coffee works.”

“Night or day,” I add because I’ve been known to indulge in a few cups in the hours after midnight.

I did that last night after I took Aunt Hildy home. With each step we took toward her place, she pressed me harder for information on what happened between William and me before she showed up at Turquoise Crown. I saw no reason to lie to her, so I didn’t. I told her nothing happened.

Skepticism danced over her expression as I said goodnight. As soon as she closed the door to her brownstone and locked it up tight, I leaned against it and let out a deep breath.

After that, I jumped on the subway and made my way home. I debated grabbing a large coffee from an all-night diner near my apartment, but I’ve made that mistake before. Even though the diner’s owner told me it was the best cup in the city, I quickly learned he either has broken taste buds or no problem lying to his customers’ faces. That coffee landed in a trashcan before I rounded the block. I highly doubt they’ve changed anything about their coffee since then.

Last night, I relied on my limited barista skills to brew a pot of coffee that kept my body warm and my mind on high alert almost all night.