17
AARON
“Hey.”
Romi was the last person I’d expected to see in my office on Monday evening, but there she was, large as life and beautiful as ever. But she didn’t look happy. Had Brooke sent her to drag me back to the dinner table?
“Hey.”
“Have you got a minute?”
“Sure.”
She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. So…this wasn’t about dinner?
“There’s a problem.”
With the food? With the case? With Davis? He seemed to have vanished from the scene tonight. Or had I f****d up in a way that was not yet apparent?
“You’ll have to elaborate.”
Romi stopped just inside the door, shifting from foot to foot as if she might run at any second. We got clients like that occasionally. Asa called them landmines—take one wrong step and the results were liable to be unpleasant.
I stayed f
