CHAPTER 22 | Finn
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I drop the confession and check copies onto the Audi’s passenger seat and back out of the parking space. Probably faster than I should, but I can’t seem to lighten my foot up. Our parking attendant—Dave—waves as I pass him then points to his watch.
“What gives?” he calls.
I grin. I don’t blame him. Used to be, I never left the office before midnight. Now, I’m peeling out at six. Libby’s changed everything.
Just hope this won’t change it again, I think, glancing at the copies before turning out of the parking deck and onto the narrow Atlanta side street. As soon as I hit the interstate heading south, I speed-dial her.
“Hi.”
One word and I melt. Christ, I have it bad. “Hi. How’s your day?”
“Okay. One of my kids finally talked today. He dropped a saddle pad
