"The gun you bought."
"I'm learning how to use it. Already have some experience," I say, getting defensive.
"I understand but—"
"I need to be able to protect myself," I cut him off.
His eyes narrow. "If you want a gun, I'll get it for you. A gun registered to you is a bad idea.”
“Your offer is a bit late. I have my first lesson today.”
"I know, that's one of the reasons I stopped by so early. You need to talk to me before you do things like that."
I sit forward. "How would I know that? You keep me totally in the dark. It didn't occur to you I might want protection after what happened in Shanghai?" I raise my brows at him. Archie, displaced by my movements, hops off the chair and heads into the kitchen, his little tail held high.
"I'm sorry that we've had communication issues." He purses his lips.What, are we heading to couples therapy next?
"Look, I told the training people it was all for a role so don't worry about it."
That tick in his jaw again—the man has some tells, I’m pleased to see. "I need you to go to—" Temperance is cut off by a bark from Archie.
"He wants his breakfast," I say, standing.
Temperance follows me into the kitchen. The sun is over the building across the street now, and the intimate space is filled with warm, yellow light. I pull out Archie's kibble and fill his bowl. He prances around my feet as I place it back on his mat, grabbing his water bowl. Temperance stands in the doorway, watching me. His gaze is almost like a touch, a gentle brush in a crowd…the almost-missed invasion of a pickpocket.
"Have you been following the election?" he asks me.
I glance at him before putting Archie's water bowl down next to his food bowl. "A little." I lean against the counter and cross my arms.
"Reginald Grand is interested in meeting you."
I raise my brows. “The Republican candidate for president?” Temperance nods. "Hold on," I say. "What do you mean ‘he wants to meet me’—like, the way that Vladimir wanted to meet me?"
"No." He shakes his head. Then gives a small shrug. "Well, yes, his interest is that of a fan."
I bark a laugh. "Vlad wanted to fuck me, Temperance."
"As do many of your fans." He says it low, trying not to insult me or insinuate that he too wants to do me.
I shake my head and turn to my coffee pot, refilling my cup. "So, how is this not like Vlad? I'm not going to need to slip something into his drink?”
“Nothing like that.” I turn back to Temperance and wait a beat, but he does not go on.
"So…what am I supposed to do with him?”
"Just meet him."
"Just meet him?" Temperance nods. "This smells like bad fish, Temperance."
"He asked to meet you. I'm facilitating." That ticking jaw again.
"You're not happy about this," I say, stepping forward. "Why?"
His sharp gaze meets mine, and he licks his lips. He takes a step into my kitchen. "It's totally inappropriate."
Both my brows go up. "What do you mean?”
"He's getting security briefings because of his position. So he knows what happened with Vlad."