The doors split open, revealing the empty garage. Empty except for Ari’s old sedan and Sloane’s spaceship. How had they gotten there so fast?
Sloane hesitated for a micro-second. Just long enough for Ari’s heart to soar and her stomach to plummet when she went for the door instead of a kiss.
“See you tomorrow,” she said, veering right to the opposite side of the garage from where Ari was parked.
“Are you going to the Halloween party?” Ari blurted, her voice echoing against unpainted cement walls.
“What?” She walked back toward the elevator where Ari was still standing, desperate for the return of her scent. Of her invasive eyes. Of her husky voice.
“Petra apparently throws an unmissable event,” she explained, daring to step closer until she’d gone beyond socially acceptable and into very personal.
Sloane didn’t step away. Instead, she held her in her gaze again. “It’s barely October,” she said quietly before flashing a lopsided smile. “Are you that into playing dress up?”
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who refuses to wear a costume.”
Sloane arched an eyebrow. “Or what?” Everything Sloane said in that quiet, deep tone was a dare. And a dangerous one at that.
“Or I’ll judge you very harshly.”
Her laugh echoed, the amplified e ect making it that much harder for Ari to breathe. “You already judge me. What do I have to lose?”
Ari cocked her head to the side before moistening her lips.
Sloane’s eyes darted toward the tip of her tongue. “Maybe it’s about what you have to gain,” she said, before turning away, desperate to leave in a position of power.
As she sauntered toward her car, Ari listened for the sound of footsteps. She didn’t hear any until she’d reached her car door. She grinned. Sloane had watched her walk away.
CHAPTER 23
APPARENTLY NO ONE told Miami it was October and far too late in the year for a nearly ninety-degree day. As Ari waited in line for an iced latte to simultaneously cool her and get her past the post-lunch slump, someone behind her called her name.
Initially, she didn’t turn around. Part of their training had been to be careful while out in public. Disgruntled defendants and their families very rarely approached them with the intent to harm, but it wasn’t impossible. It took a split second to recognize the voice and turned.
“Javon!” She waved at the man in a tailored black suit sitting at one of the few little tables along the window.
“Don’t lose your table,” she added when he started to stand.
“I’ll be right there.”
With cold ca eine in hand, Ari sat at his table, wishing her pencil skirt was a little looser. “What are you doing here?”
He smiled. “A date. She works at a clothing store around here, so we’re meeting for an afternoon co ee.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m a few minutes early.”
They chatted about what each of them were doing, and the more he told her about county criminal, the more positive she was she’d chosen correctly by selecting the domestic violence unit.
“I heard you and Sloane have kissed and made up,” he said out of nowhere, catching Ari o guard.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Javon chuckled as he fidgeted with a sugar packet. “Just that you’re very friendly despite supposedly hating her guts.”
“I never hated her,” she replied defensively. “Plus, we’re just sharing an o ce.” Her muscles tightened and her stomach tensed. “What the hell are people saying?” Her mind reeled. The o ce was worse than high school when it came to gossiping about new couples or the latest splits.
Even when they were interns. But they didn’t have anything newsworthy going on. Did they? Had Ralph told everybody about Sloane’s crashing their drink and acting so possessive?
It wasn’t impossible, but she hadn’t caught wind of it before.
“Chill, just that being forced together did the trick to make you two get along,” he replied, calming Ari’s runaway fears. “I just think it’s funny considering the amount of shit you talked about her.”