He returned our stares, appeared unconcerned and/or bored, and added, “She’s right. They do.”

Elizabeth burst out laughing, and the rest of the room followed suit. I threw my head back and smacked the couch cushion beside me. It felt so good to laugh. Laughter is the best therapy for all ailments except bronchitis.

I loved these ladies—inclusive of Nicoletta.

The room both quieted and erupted in conversation, and I smiled as I finished the last stitch of the mitten thumb.

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and I glanced up and around. That’s when I noticed Quinn’s glacial glare focused with laser-like intensity in my direction. He appeared to be surveying me—or something in my vicinity. I was confused by his perusal, so I twisted around to see what caught his attention. When I turned back, he was still glaring in my direction.

“Sandra. I need to talk to you.”

My eyebrows supersonic bolted to my hairline. “Uhh…me?” I pointed to myself.

I would be lying if I said Quinn made me nervous. He didn’t make me nervous. He kind of scared the crap out of me. And I wasn’t alone in my wariness of the guy.

Janie, as his wife, was obviously exempt.

Elizabeth didn’t like him, and found him domineering and completely intolerable. Regardless, Nico and Quinn seemed to get along fine.

Fiona wasn’t scared of anyone, including Quinn.

But Ashley, Kat, Marie, and I all thought he was frightening.

Hot, but frightening.

First of all, he stood six feet forever in the sky. Secondly, he hardly spoke and never smiled—well, almost never. He smiled at Janie. Thirdly, he was so handsome it should have been a felony; he was uncomfortably good-looking—meaning, his looks made everyone uncomfortable. Additionally, it wasn’t a large leap to assume his security business wasn’t completely legitimate.

He was also just one of those people who looked untouchable, like a marble statue. Something about the hawkish, perfect sharp angles of his face, the breadth of his shoulders, and the light blue of his eyes—I wasn’t kidding when I called his glare glacial.

“Yes.” His jaw flexed. “Come with me.” He turned and motioned for me to follow him into the hall.

Ah yes, he also liked to order people around.

I glanced around the room and all eyes rested on me except Janie, who didn’t seem at all concerned about the interaction and was therefore absorbed in her crochet project, and Elizabeth, who was shooting daggers at Quinn’s back.

I shrugged, set my knitting to the side, and shoved my hands in the pockets of my hoodie as I stood. Tonight I was wearing my Knitters and Crocheters, Give Peace A Chance T-shirt; it was just visible between the open flaps of my hoodie.

I walked passed Dan—the guard who had been assigned to Marie some weeks ago after the body builder incident—and gave him a small smile. He returned it and followed me out into the hall.

Once we were there, the three of us—scary Quinn, nice Dan, and apprehensive me—huddled together in the walkway between the elevator and Elizabeth and Nico’s penthouse.

Quinn crossed his arms. I did the same.

Quinn studied me. I looked at Dan.

Dan shrugged. I looked at Quinn.

“What’s going on?” I said

“I got a call today. Can you guess who it was?” Quinn’s icicle eyes glimmered as they moved between mine.

“Your mom?”

Dan snorted, then covered it with a cough. Quinn didn’t remove his eyes from mine.

“No.”

“My mom?”

Dan turned halfway away, glanced at the ceiling. Quinn did not look amused.

“Sandra.” Quinn’s voice held a warning. “I don’t like it when the NSA calls me. Why is the NSA calling me?”

I inhaled slowly and thought about making a joke about how the NSA doesn’t really need to call anyone; they just interrupt while you’re already on the phone.

I decided against it.

“They didn’t tell you why they were calling?”

“Do you need a guard?” He almost looked concerned; and he ignored my question. “I’ve already talked to Dan about it. We can keep you safe.”

“I don’t need a guard. I’m not in any danger.” I uncrossed my arms and reminded myself that Quinn—despite his imposing appearance—was not the enemy. No one was the enemy. We were all friends. We just needed to learn how to play together.

“What has Alex Greene told you?”

I crossed my arms again. Maybe I’d let my guard down too quickly. “About what?”

“About who he really is, what he’s done, who he knows.”

“Is the NSA putting pressure on you because I used your apartment downstairs?”

He didn’t nod and he didn’t shake his head. Rather, he issued me a non-committal head bob. “Yes. They want to tap the apartment. In fact, they’ve already tried to. And now they want my cooperation.”

I sighed, rubbed my forehead with my fingertips, and studied the carpet without seeing it. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll stall them.” Quinn’s voice was quiet, contemplative.

I was surprised and my face showed it. “Thank you.” I searched his expression, couldn’t help my next question. “Why would you do that?”

“Are you involved with him?”

I didn’t respond. I just impressed myself by holding his gaze without looking away.

Silence stretched during which he read the answer in my eyes. “I see….” He nodded. “Then I assume you know what you’re getting into.”

My gaze fell at his words because I didn’t want him to see the truth. I didn’t know what I was getting into.

Then Quinn said, “I know who he is.”

My eyes snapped to his.

He held my gaze again, studying me. I suspected he was keenly adept at reading people.

After a protracted moment, Quinn shuffled backward a step and leaned against the wall behind him. “In fact, in the hacker community, everyone knows who he is. If you want information about him, just let me know.”

My eyes darted to Dan. He was watching me with cautious compassion.

“I think I know….” I pulled my attention from Dan’s warm, brown eyes, and reengaged with Quinn’s cold, blue ones. “I think I know who he is, but I realize that I’ll never really understand. I don’t exist in that world, so I don’t imagine I’ll ever be able to entirely comprehend his…his abilities.”

Quinn nodded, but then surprised me by saying, “I could use him.”

This caused me to flinch, my eyelashes to flutter, my mouth to fall open. “Uh…what?”

“I could use him—Alex—if he ever wanted a job.”

“Uh, I don’t think the NSA would….”

“They would. I have my ways.”

“But they’re not actually part of….”

“Everyone in Washington is answerable to a committee.” His words were flat, almost bored sounding, as though this part of the conversation was pointless. “Just tell him, tell Alex, that I can help. If either of you need help, just let me know.”

I stared at Quinn for a long moment, my complete shock entirely visible on my face. “Why? Why would you help him?”

Quinn’s mouth curved in the faintest of smiles and his eyes lost a bit of their focus. An expression resembling admiration passed over his features. “If you actually understood who he was, you wouldn’t ask me that question.”

CHAPTER 21

Wednesday’s Horoscope: You may feel as if you can’t gain total control over your own priorities lately. Accept your current situation by honoring what you cannot change; you may find something better through compromise.

We met in the hospital cafeteria again.

I was eating a chocolate bar, because…sexual frustration. I was ready to explode. I needed physical contact. I craved it. It had reached watching Jar Jar Binks levels of frustration. In fact, I was almost tempted to cancel the date without some assurances of progression.

But I didn’t, because…Alex.

When his face appeared, some of the shrewish aggravation I’d been stewing in since Saturday eased. I noted his careless swagger, how his lips were slightly parted, and the way he peered at me through his black, horn-rimmed glasses like they were a microscope and I was an awe-inspiring, scientifically fascinating, once-in-a-lifetime discovery of exquisite beauty.

He claimed the seat across from mine and reached for my chocolate bar. He took a big bite, his mouth pulling to the side as he chewed. I loved how he chewed. I could watch him chew food—just chew—for hours. Obviously, I needed my head examined.

“Hello, Sandra.”

“Hello, Alex.”

He smiled.

Then we both began talking at the same time.

“I was thinking….”

“What if we…?”

We both stopped, huffed a little laugh, and he motioned for me to continue my thought.

“I’m kind of tired. What do you think about staying in at my place, watching a movie?”

His jaw set, and he didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. He didn’t like the idea.

“Hey.” I reached across the table, my palm up, and allowed my expression to demonstrate how tired I was. “It’s been a long week. Do you think we could take a night off from everything?”