Page 54 of Whispers of Wisteria

My throat tightened. I opened my mouth to answer, but the waitress arrived, setting down our food with a polite smile.

Bianca pulled back and tucked her hands in her lap.

“Later,” I murmured.

She hesitated, then nodded.

We ate in silence, the weight of unspoken words thick between us. But as I watched her pick at her food, a quiet realization settled in.

She was asking questions now.

That was a start.

Bianca POV

It was late the next morning when I stumbled out of bed. I felt slightly better today; by tomorrow, I’d probably be pain-free entirely. I appreciated that everyone had decided to let me sleep in.

I made my way to the kitchen, where it became obvious that the quiet was because everyone had gone except me and Titus.

He was reading the paper in the breakfast nook and looked up when I entered the room.

I rubbed my eyes as I sat at the table across from him. “Where…” I started, but then my attention drifted to the plate of eggs and bacon being pushed toward me.

“They went out,” Titus said, sliding a glass of orange juice beside the plate. I eyed the orange liquid, wishing it were coffee instead. “Drink it anyway,” he commanded, breaking through my disdain.

I looked at him, a shiver shooting down my spine. Was he reading my mind? Not right now, it was too soon. “C-can you…”

“No.” Titus’s forehead wrinkled, and his expression dropped slightly. “You’re just predictable.”

I absolutely was not! To prove him wrong, I grabbed the juice and drank it without complaint while I ate the rest of my breakfast.

“I’m taking you to work with me,” Titus declared without preamble.

I chewed on the bacon, waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t say anything else. He picked up the paper again before I finally prodded, “And…?”

Titus lowered the paper. “‘And’ what?”

“What are we going to do there?”

My thoughts were still safe, and so I let them wander. We were going to Titus’s office, which meant that the mystery might finally be uncovered. Would it be like the movies, where he had a modernistic lair and a million resources at his disposal? Would there be multiple TV-sized computers mounted on the walls, face-recognition software, and rows and rows of guns?

I bet there was—his bedroom already carried much of that vibe.

“Probably paperwork.” Titus’s attention drifted to the large window as he mused. “A few conference calls. Then lunch.”

“Oh.” I stared at my eggs. That didn’t sound very fun at all. Would my phone battery survive the day, or should I bring a charger?

“Yeah, the afternoons are better. I make it a point not to kill anyone until after twelve,” Titus replied coolly. “Too much bloodshed in the morning is considered bad luck.”

I blinked, unsure that I’d heard him correctly. “What?”

“What?” he repeated. “I said that there might be some collection efforts in the afternoon, but I’m not sure. It depends on what Maria has on the schedule.”

No. I narrowed my eyes at him, but he remained unaffected.

That wasn’t what he’d said at all.

“Get dressed.” Titus inclined his head, clearly referring to my current state of unreadiness. “Once you’re done, we can go.”