Chapter 12: Thirty

I looked at Aldous's soft hand on mine.

I didn't pull away.

You never pull away from a man who's just shown you what he wants.

"That's very kind," I said. "I'll keep it in mind."

"Please do." He squeezed once and let go. "Anytime. Day or night."

He paid the check.

He held the door.

He waved from the curb as my guard pulled up.

The second the car door shut, I took out my notebook and wrote down every word he'd said, in order, with the time.

My hand was perfectly steady.

My stomach wasn't.

【Okay, I'm scared now. Like actually scared.】

【Book Kitty said yes to him. She took the car.】

【The cop wrote it DOWN. Kitty never wrote anything down.】

I gave the page to Marge that afternoon.

She read it twice.

"Who else knows?"

"You. Me."

"Keep it that way for now." She folded it into her blazer. "And Jules. Don't take anything from that man. Not a car. Not a cough drop."

Three weeks went by.

Lucas spent them in his study with the Foundation's old bank records, quiet and gray.

I worked.

We ate my grilled cheese at eleven.

He dried plates for ten minutes.

He didn't kiss me again.

He held my hand on the roof, and that was all.

On December twelfth I turned thirty.

I didn't tell anyone.

I worked a day tour, came back to the precinct at six, and found the squad room dark.

The lights snapped on.

"SURPRISE!"

My whole squad was crammed between the desks.

Marge was in front with a party hat on top of her reading glasses.

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