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A little out of breath, I took a moment to settle my lungs before glaring at her. “Reid,” I said carefully, eyeing theverymischievous grin spreading across her face, “are you going to tell me what’s going on right now?”

Reid settled back into her seat, crossing one leg over the other with a shrug and a half frown. “I may or may not currently be plotting something to benefit the both of us.”

I swallowed my next words, instead recalling the flutter in my stomach when Reid had lied and told the agent that we were…

Together.

“Are you going to fill me in or do I get to wait and see like everyone else will?”

“Obviously I’m going to fill you in.” Reid winked. “You’re kind of integral to the whole thing.”

I leaned back, the dull hum of the restaurant around us a comfortable bubble that hid us away from our suddenly foreign reality.

“That’s not as encouraging as you think it is.”

Reid laughed, waving over the nearest waiter. “I’ll have my usual, please,” she said with a smile.

I tapped my finger on the table, anxiety bubbling in my gut.

“Marry me,” she said, her grin glittering.

I choked on my breath and gaped at her. “Fuckingwhat?” I hissed, every ounce of professionalism flying out the nearest window. She waved her hand to shush me.

“Keep it down!” she whispered, color sitting high in her cheeks. “Do you want to get caught or something?”

“I’m sorry, but how the hell did you expect me to react?”

“A little more enthusiastically, if I’m being honest,” she said with a slight pout. “Is the idea of marrying methatrepulsive?”

My jaw slackened and a startled laugh burst out of me. “Reid, do you hear yourself?” I breathed. I glanced around, convinced someone was about to call us out. “You’re asking me to marry you. What are you thinking?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she crooned. “I’m not going to let the Man kick you out if I can do something about it. So, if a work visa isn’t going to work…”

Then a green card would.

I chewed the thought over in my head, trying to shove away the sheer insanity of marrying my own boss.

“Wait,” I said, holding both hands out like I was trying to steady myself. “I’m going to need you to spell this out for me. I don’t want to be on the ugly end of a misunderstanding.”

Before Reid could explain her thoughts, the waiter returned with her order and placed a delicious-smelling dish in front of me, too.

“What’s-?”

“My usual,” Reid cut in, thanking our waiter. He left and she turned back to me. “You haven’t eaten yet.”

“But, ugh, never mind.” I sighed, digging in.

Even after all these years, it was difficult to accept that Reid remembered tiny details about me.

Like my favorite dish.

I didn’t want to examine the gem that was her adding my order to her usual.

“Anyway,” she said, twirling her fork through the saucy pasta. “If we were to get married, we’d be getting rid of your little issue.”

“I get that,” I said. “What I don’t get is why you’re asking me to marryyou. What could you possibly get out of this?”

Reid made a show of chewing and swallowing her mouthful of pasta, before curling some more around her fork.