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Flint.

That was a surprise, and a welcome surprise at that. He much preferred arguing with Flint to bickering with Ben.

“In here.” Zach headed for the lobby and walked straight into Flint, who apparently tookin hereas an invitation.

“OWW,” said Flint. More noisily than strictly necessary.

Zach’s, “Ouch,” was pointedly dignified.

They hastily backed up like dueling Roombas encountering unexpected obstacles.

“Thisis what I’m talking about!” Flint’s tone was accusatory. His hazel eyes were narrowed and his cheeks a little red. He did not like being caught off-balance, literally or metaphorically.

“What is?”

“Are you open or not?”

“You didn’t have to pick the lock, did you? So, we’re open.” What was it about Flint that automatically brought out the smart-ass in Zach? He was usually a very amiable guy.

Predictably, Flint retorted, “The problem is, running a business is about more than door hardware. If you’re closed for lunch, you need a sign on the door.”

Oh, right. Zach was just responding in kind. He said with strained courtesy, “We’re not. Did you have some reason for dropping by? I know how busy you are.” He couldn’t help adding, “Turning down lucrative cases.”

Flint’s eyes grew slitty, but then, surprisingly, he said, “I wanted to apologize for that…for the crack earlier.”

The crack?

“Oh.” That took the wind out of Zach’s sails. He had been trying to convince himself that theyou-come-cheapcomment hadn’t bothered him, but the realization that Flint, of all people, felt it warranted an apology almost made it worse.

He shrugged. “You’re entitled to your opinion.”

“Yep. I am. And I think taking on Alton Beacher as a client is a big mistake. But…that was out of line. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Apology accepted.”

Flint continued to gaze at him in that half irritated, half troubled way. Zach, already made uncomfortable by Flint’s apology, felt even more uneasy.

Flint began, “I know it’s none of my business—”

“No, it’s not,” Zach interrupted. “Besides, what’s left to say? You think I shouldn’t have taken the case. Well, I’m not crazy about this situation either. But I don’t have a choice. I can’t pick and choose our clients. If I can get this resolved, we’ll have enough capital to see us through the next few months. Plus, if Beacher’s satisfied, it could mean more clients and more business.”

Flint shook his head. “Fred would not be okay with this. You know that, Zachariah.”

Flint must have addressed him by his first name before, but Zach couldn’t remember it, and he felt an odd flicker of…something…at hearing Flint pronounceZachariah. As if Flint too found those four syllables unexpectedly difficult, tricky, foreign.

“Really? You’re going to drag my dad into this? Do you evenknowthe full details of the case?” When Flint hesitated, Zach said hotly, “No, you don’t. You’re making assumptions. You’re jumping to conclusions. You don’t have all the facts.”

“Neither do you, I bet. Anyway, I heard enough. When you’ve been doing this as long as I have, you get an instinct.”

“Oh my God.” Zach stared ceilingward. “Spare me the Sam Spade routine.”

Flint stopped talking, pressed his lips together. His eyes had narrowed to slits again.

“Look, I think you mean well. I really do,” Zach said. “But I also think you’re overestimating the complexities of the case. And you’reunderestimating me.”

That was equal parts defiance, worry, and bravado because with every terse word out of Flint’s mouth, he was undermining Zach’s confidence. Zach too had an instinct that he might have taken a wrong turn somewhere, and if he was ignoring hisowninstincts, he sure as hell wasn’t going to rely on Flint’s.

Flint studied him for a long moment. He smiled a smile guaranteed to frost sunflowers on the hottest summer’s day, and said gently, “Well, you know best.”