into the market’s parking lot. The market was small, sort of a commercialized mom-and-pop feel to it.
When the limo eased into the fire lane, Lucian let himself out. Dugan met him on the curb. “I’ll be
out in a bit. You can park.”
“Yes, sir.”
The automatic doors opened to the scent of paper products and the hum of canned elevator music.
He could not recall the last time he stepped foot in a grocery store. Perhaps he never had. A metal
snake of shopping carts was parked along the front of the store. His feet carried him where his mind
wasn’t aware he should go.
Crossing the threshold of another set of automatic doors, he entered the main store. Shoppers glided
by, perusing their lists and selecting goods, as mothers herded children in the desired direction. A
stack of baskets sat just beside a display of cut flowers. He collected a basket and selected a bouquet of lavender tulips, dropping them into the green wire bin.
Sales marked the first aisle, and he wasn’t quite sure where Evelyn would be. He drifted down the
aisles, taking in the unique feeling of normalcy that came with being in such an ordinary place. Lucian stilled in the cookie aisle when his gaze recognized a type of pinwheel biscuit and his mind drifted to a memory he had all but forgotten.
His fingers curled around the simple white box with blue lettering as he returned to his childhood
kitchen. He suddenly conjured his mother’s perfume and felt the warmth of her presence as she
handed him a pinwheel. Her smile was delicate and loving.
Strange that a cookie could present such a nostalgic recollection he didn’t realize he had. The box of
cookies landed in the basket, cozied neatly beside the tulips so as not to crush the blooms.
As he wandered on he looked for signs of Evelyn, but didn’t find her. At the line of registers he saw
the young man who had taken her to the benefit that weekend. No longer in a tuxedo, he appeared less
of a threat and more of a boy. Odd that Lucian would see him as so young when he saw Evelyn as his
perfect match.
He frowned as he considered the difference in their age. The media had been focusing on the
question of her maturity like predators over a downed squirrel. Had he taken advantage of an
innocent? True, she was a virgin when he met her, but she was also an adult.
The media would, of course, have no knowledge of such things, but it certainly didn’t escape their
notice that Evelyn was in her early twenties while he was in his midthirties. Should he feel some level of guilt for wanting her in such carnal ways?
“Lucian?”
All thoughts cut off as he heard her voice. He turned and found her stepping from a nondescript
back door by the bakery section. “There you are.” He smiled and approached her.
Lips parted in surprise, she stared at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“I’m working.” She scowled. “How did you find out where I worked?”
He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Evelyn . . .”
She made a sound of disgust. “And you wonder why I want my privacy on other issues.”
He frowned. The sense that he was unwelcome irritated him, another barrier that hadn’t existed
before. “Well, I needed to pick up a few things.”
The disbelieving look she gave him made him smirk. She never bought into his bullshit, but at least
she didn’t challenge him. She peeked into his basket. “Cookies and flowers?”
He stepped closer and whispered. “Shh, you aren’t supposed to see the flowers.” He had the
strongest desire to kiss her, but knew she wouldn’t want such attention in her place of work. Rather, he slowly traced a finger down the delicate curve of her jaw.
A door opened, the one she had just exited, and she suddenly stiffened and stepped away.
“Evelyn, you will also need to—” The man who emerged cut off his request when he spotted Lucian
standing there.
He was young, but appeared older in the way he carried himself. His face was groomed with a dated
mustache and his eyes were hidden behind thick lenses, making his age difficult to discern. Lucian’s
gaze snapped to his badge and noted that he was the manager.
“I didn’t realize you were assisting a customer. Please return to my office when you’re finished.”
There was nothing inappropriate in such a request from a manager to an employee, yet the set of
Evelyn’s shoulders and the blank expression on her face told him something was off. The manager
disappeared through the doors again and Evelyn drew in a shaky breath.
Before he could ask what the guy’s deal was, she turned and hissed, “You have to go.”
He frowned. “Do you not like your manager?”
“He’s my boss. I don’t have an opinion about him, but he’ll certainly have an opinion about me
holding social calls at work.”
No, there was something definitely off with her, and it definitely had to do with the manager. “If