Her mouth curved at the corners, but it was without mirth. “I like that word, lover. We should use it more.” She shook her head. “And no, no other lovers. No boyfriends, no girlfriends, just little ol’ me. I wouldn’t have propositioned you in the park if I already had a lover.”
“That’s good to know.” I swiped a hand across my mouth, regretting saying that the moment it came out. “I’ll check into Logan again. Perhaps the eejit’s alibi isn’t as airtight as he led the police to believe.”
She laughed and murmured “eejit” under her breath. “I prefer cocksucking motherfucker, but you do you, honey bunny.” She jumped to her feet, tucking her hands in her back pocket, and came to stand beside me so she could peer at my tablet. “What’s the plan? Build me a cage? A tower only a fair prince can rescue me from?”
“Nah. Your hair’s not long enough to climb. Wouldn’t work.”
Iris tilted her head back to peer at me with a pinched brow. “Was that...a joke?”
“What makes you think I don’t joke?”
She waved her hand in a circle in front of her. “Your whole thing. The perfect suit, the constantly scanning eyes, the way it seems to pain you to show a hint of any emotion besides disapproving concern. Maybe I just bring out the best in you.”
“You bring out the professional in me.”
Her lashes lowered to sweep her cheekbones. “No fun,” she murmured, kicking the fuzzy rug covering part of her wood floors. “I give in. Let me grab a few things and then you can lock me away again.”
I waited in the living room while she packed. Standing at one of the windows, I watched the sidewalk through a narrow crack in her curtains. Few people passed, none standing out, until a woman across the street caught my attention. She stopped to tie her shoe, her eyes on Iris’s building, but as soon as she stopped, she got going again, so I discarded the paranoia.
Iris’s car was waiting for her by the time she was packed. At the sidewalk, with a guitar strapped to her back, she gave me a questioning look. “Aren’t you coming?”
“I’m not. My office is a few blocks in the opposite direction. I’ll walk.”
“You trust me to go straight to Adam’s apartment and not get kidnapped or murdered?”
I frowned. “Now I don’t.”
That made her laugh, and what a pretty sound it was. The most sultry music filtering through the thick air of a summer night.
“You’re too much, Ronan. I promise I’m going straight there. Adam would murder me himself if I wandered around on my own.”
I gave her a long look. “Text me when you arrive and have locked yourself in your tower.”
She finger-gunned me. “Look at you, you jokester. Careful, I might start to think you’re human.”
Backing away from her, I tucked my hands in my pockets and wiped any expression from my face. “Wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression.”
Still laughing, Iris waved as she climbed into the car. “Bye,Ronan-bot.”
“Ah, pet, you missed the perfect opportunity to call me Ro-bot.”
She leaned out the window and snapped her fingers. “Damn. I’m slow on the uptake.”
“Be careful.”
The car pulled away from the sidewalk, and she stuck her hand out to wave. At least, that’s what I had thought she was doing. All her fingers curled inward, except for the middle one, which pointed skyward.
Scrubbing my face with my hand to clear out the chaos that was Iris Adler, I walked to Aileen’s building. Steven greeted me at the door, looking hopeful it was dog park day. When I didn’t grab his leash from the hook on the wall, he gave me a look filled with disdain and turned his back on me.
Finn and Aileen were both at work in her office, typing on their keyboards. Each of us had a desk, but I rarely worked at mine. Sitting at a desk all day wasn’t the dream, and I was lucky enough to be able to avoid it.
Finn looked up, raising his brows. “There he is, the man himself. How was the continuation of your meeting with our little rock star?”
I collapsed into my desk chair with a grunt. “Her apartment is a criminal’s wet dream. She’s uncooperative and hates being told what to do—exactly the type I need after the shite I just got through dealing with.”
Aileen swiveled in her chair, an unlit cigarette between her lips. “The calls have stopped, yes?”
“They have.” I rested my ankle on my opposite knee. “A new phone number will do that.”