Page 4 of Girl Anonymous

“I mean you have the look of someone who puts a lot of time and effort into self-defense.”

Since Maarja put a lot of time and effort into disappearing into the woodwork, she didn’t appreciatethatcomment.

Alex interrupted, “Do I look as if I put a lot of time and effort into self-defense, too?” She posed, hand on her hip, and smiled invitingly at Dante.

A behavior so at odds with Alex’s usual quiet professionalism and hands-off attitude, Maarja had to look twice to realize Alex was running interference.

Dante accepted the invitation and ran his gaze up and down her; her curvaceous body could not be disguised by the loose white coveralls. “You don’t, but I wouldn’t dare jump you in a dark alley.”

Alex winked. “Best to wait on an invitation, and never in an alley.”

“That’s my rule.” Down the hall, the elevator dinged. He glanced out the door and faced back to Maarja, and he was not amused. “That’s Serene, I assume?”

Maarja gave in to her knee-jerk reaction. “No, she would never—”

Serene strolled into the library.

Serene always lived up to her name. Deep insights, lots of meditation, never surprised, never the best fighter, but always fighting to win. Tall, willowy, blonde, older than Maarja but not as experienced as a mover. She looked around the library in calm interest like a tourist on a house tour. She nodded as if the place was exactly as she expected, and to the speechless Maarja, she said, “Saint Rees sent a male guard. Were you expecting him?”

“No! Who?” Maarja shot a horrified glance at Dante.

He observed the play between the women without expression, and yet at the same time he exuded displeasure. Neat trick. Scary aura.

“That guy Morrison. Scrawny, fast with his hands, thinks he’s handsome.” Serene’s low placid voice contrasted with her scathing appraisal.

“I know him.” Maarja took a breath and tried not to shout. “You shouldn’t have left him alone with the van. What are you doing up here?”

“I was interested in this house. It’s on the National Treasury, you know.”

“I do know, but we don’t have rights to tour a client’s home without invitation,andwe don’t leave a man alone with the van. You know the message that sends.”

Dante crossed his arms over his chest and silently critiqued Maarja’s in-charge position.

“A lot of security out there. A lot of security in here.” Serene jerked her head toward the door where Nate’s shadow lurked. In her own relaxed and soothing way, Serene was undermining any confidence Dante Arundel might have had in Maarja and in Saint Rees Fine Arts Movers. “I sense this operation is blessed.”

“Serene, this is Mr. Arundel.”

Serene started forward, hand outstretched.

Maarja stepped between them. “I senseheis displeased. Return to the van. Do the job for which you were hired.”

Serene pulled up short. She smiled pleasantly. “Of course, Maarja, but sometimes it’s best to put your trust in the universe. I certainly have.Namaste.” She put her palms together and bowed, and strolled out as gracefully as she had strolled in.

Alex followed her, and from the elevator lobby Maarja heard her giving Serene hell. The bell dinged, the doors closed, and the women’s voices were abruptly cut off.

Maarja turned to Dante. “I do apologize. In the past, Serene has been completely reliable, but she marches to a different drummer and unfortunately the beat unexpectedly caught up with her. I’ll speak to her, as will Saint Rees.”

“Make sure you do.”

The elevator bell dinged again.

Maarja heard the sound of Mrs. Raine Arundel’s mechanical wheelchair.

Dante smiled, and that smile transformed his face from Sir Grumpy Black Armani Jacket to Mr. Loving and Living in Old Running Shoes.

Points to him. He adored his mother.

Mrs. Arundel paused and greeted Nate.

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