I savored the way her jaw set. “I’m working.”
“Not very hard.” She glanced, once, over her shoulder. “Is the deal going to fall apart or are you just waiting to see if I crack?”
“If you cracked,” I said, “I’d have to find a new way to amuse myself.”
She laughed, dry and throatier than usual. “You’re not funny, Valor. You’re just predictable.”
That stung more than it should. “That’s a first. You never complained before.”
“I didn’t say it was a complaint.”
She straightened, turning fully toward me. The move brought her just inside the rectangle of light cast by the lamp. It carved her features into something unflinching; eyes like the edge of a storm, mouth already set for the next strike. She’d switched from the blazer to a fitted blouse earlier, and the top two buttons were uncharacteristically undone. I couldn’t decide if it was a lapse or an invitation.
“Why are you still here, Gabriel?”
The question sounded simple, but nothing with her ever was.
I held her gaze. “The same reason you’re still here.”
She smiled, a razor-thin curve. “You think you have me figured out.”
“No. But I know you want this to work more than anyone. Even if you’d rather die than admit it.”
“You talk a lot of shit for a man whose signature is still missing from my contract.”
I pushed away from the table, closing the gap between us until the air buzzed with static. She didn’t move. Her handstayed on the desk, palm flat, nails tapping out a Morse code of impatience.
“Eliza.”
“What.”
“You’re not going to sleep tonight, are you?”
She rolled her eyes, but her chin lifted. “That an invitation?”
I moved in. Close enough to smell her perfume, sharp, citrus, the kind of scent that punched above its weight class. “It’s an observation.”
“Congratulations, you’re observant.” She looked past my shoulder, jaw set. “And you’re blocking my view. Is there a point to this, or did you just come to flex?”
“Maybe I wanted to see what you look like when you lose.”
That got her. She laughed, low and surprised. “You really want to find out?” she asked.
I did. Badly. But it wasn’t the right move. Not yet.
I stepped back half a pace, the pressure between us breaking just enough to be infuriating. “You’re not going to lose. That’s not the issue.”
She regarded me with fresh calculation. “Then what is?”
I gave her the truth. “You terrify me.”
The words had no edge, no irony. They justwere, heavy as concrete. I waited for her to mock me, but the silence went on.
She leaned in, both palms flat on the desk now, as if the furniture was the only thing keeping her upright. Her voice came out softer than I’d ever heard it. “You scare me, too.”
I didn’t know what to do with that. So I did nothing. I just stood there, letting the office’s nighttime hush wrap around us.
Outside, a siren faded, replaced by a strange, thick silence.