I had done that.
The urge to apologize, the urge to wipe the wet from her lashes, and the memory of Ronald's laughing mouth at the café table all collided in my chest at once, and the last one won.
"Get in."
I made my voice gravel on purpose. It was easier than the alternative.
She got in.
I shut her door, rounded the hood, dropped into the driver's seat, and pulled out into Seattle traffic before I'd remembered to fasten my own belt.
The cabin sealed. Ten square feet of leather and recycled air, and the faint, terrible note of him still clinging to her skin.
"There's no acquisition crisis."
Her voice wobbled on the last word. She dragged the back of her hand across her cheek like the tears had personally offended her.
"Why are you doing this to me, Damian. Did you fly to Seattle
