his hands off on his khakis. “I’m not getting in the middle of sisters. I’m not that stupid. But she was scared to death all night, thinking you’d gotten yourself killed at dinner with Nikolai and feeling guilty that she started this. Just think about it, Emma.”
My gut drops. It hadn’t even occurred to me to call or text her last night. I was so swept away. My heart clenches in guilt.
But only for not reaching out to her, not for feeling . . . whatever it is.
“Matt, I’m not going to change my mind. It’s made up.”
He nods, pursing his lips. “She’s worked up, but she’s not wrong. Nathan Stone is dangerous. So saying that . . . it’s not just wrong, it’s stupid. You need to haul ass for the horizon like there’s no tomorrow. It’s a dicey situation but can be done carefully. We can help you do that. Let us.”
His every word is oatmeal, bland and uncaring. The weather man has more pep when he talks about a mild fall day. But it’s soothing in a way after Claire’s tirade. He’s the Yin to her Yang.
He heads for the door, but before he can leave, I call out, “Why did the mission get a red light?”
Matt turns back, and his eyes narrow. “I don’t have reservations about Stone. The man is dangerous, and most likely a criminal. But we had nothing real against him other than gut feelings. It was a fool’s errand to even take it to our superiors, but we’d hoped uselessly. Beside the fact that you’ve put yourself in danger, this was a terrible idea. Protocols are meant to be followed, upper ranks to be obeyed. Claire was wrong to involve you and she is paying the price. Don’t make her pay the ultimate price if you don’t back away.”
And with that, he’s gone.
Chapter 16
Nathan
My phone dings and I look down to see Emma’s name on the screen.
I need to see you.
I chuckle. Missing me already?
Yeah, but we need to talk.
That sounds dire.
Hopefully not, but this morning . . .
I see the bubble of dots that’s supposed to show me she’s typing, but then they disappear and I wonder what she was going to say and why she changed her mind.
This morning was intense and weird, and I hope that my fight with Caleb and whatever shit he said to her, didn’t scare her off.
Come to my office?
On my way.
The half-hour wait until she gets here feels like an eternity. But even though I’m waiting so impatiently, virtually staring at the city below like I could figure out which ant-dot down there is her, I’m still surprised when my assistant comes in, catching me slightly off guard.
“Miss Daniels to see you, sir.”
I turn, running my hands over my shirt and nodding tersely. “Of course. Show her in.”
Emma comes in bare-faced with her hair pulled up, in casual sweats, layered tees, and tennis shoes. She’s a vision of loveliness, and my heart speeds up looking upon her singular beauty.
But her face is almost as pale as her hoodie, which is a ghostly gray.
“Come in,” I invite, guiding her to the couch in my office’s sitting area. It’s a bit old-fashioned, but I still keep it. It helps me relax at the end of a long day. Besides, it’s one doozy of a couch, leather-covered and that perfect blend of soft and firm cushioning that makes you want to just evaporate into it.
Emma, though, perches uneasily on the edge, back ramrod straight and hands fidgeting in her lap.
“What’s wrong? Is this about me and Caleb?” I ask, sitting down beside her.
Her eyes jump from her lap to mine, her head shaking. “No, I mean yeah, that was intense. But then I went home and—”
I break in, fearing the worst. “Did Nikolai hurt you?”
“No, please just let me say this. I don’t know how, but I need to.” She bites her lip and I can see her chin quivering ever so slightly. “Shit, this is hard.”
I take her hands, needing to ease her somehow, but she looks sadly at our hands. “Emma, whatever it is, just tell me. It’s okay.”
She takes a deep breath, shudders, and then plunges in. “So, I told you about my name, that I’m Emma Daniels, an actress and data entry Girl Friday for Professor Ford. But there’s more. I just didn’t know how to tell you or if I should . . .”
I’m frozen in place, there on my couch, in