“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting,” the girl gushed, rushing over with a set of to go cups in a tray. “Your orders are fresh and hot though, I made sure.”
Isabelle thanked her and tipped her, then started toward the front of the shop. Eyeing a couple of the displays, she snagged some specialized provisions for the days to come. Hopefully she wouldn’t need them but if she didn’t get them, she had a sneaking suspicion she’d regret not being prepared.
Chapter Six
Kyle was entertained enough by Miss Isabelle Scott’s reactions to actually wait patiently in the apartment for her to return. Besides, twenty minutes was hardly long and he’d appreciated her giving him a time frame at all. Something neither the officers nor the deputy marshal had bothered to provide him.
It remained to be seen whether she would keep to the given time frame.
In the meantime, he made himself a sandwich. He was pleasantly surprised to find a fresh-baked loaf of bread, presliced and waiting. On first glance, he’d expected it to be from a well-known French bakery in Pike Place Market but the label was handwritten instead. Home-baked? There were also good quality deli meats, again fresh sliced. And a variety of cheeses both sliced and spreadable. The refrigerator had not been stocked with standard supplies from a chain grocery store. There was also Irish butter and Italian sea salt infused with white truffle. Even a jar or two of what looked to be homemade preserves with a handwritten label across the seal. Someone with a palette had supplied them with items to put together a decent repast.
He’d have to look into who supplied Safeguard with their catering. The person, or Isabelle, had good taste.
Spreading out the fixings, he set about making himself a sandwich. He also wrapped up everything again but left it all out so Isabelle could easily put together her own. He’d have made one for her but he didn’t know her tastes yet and wanted to see what she made for herself. Besides, observing her had proven a definite pleasure.
She was exceedingly expressive when conversing with him. Or perhaps he’d exaggerated his perceived difference between her stoic professional demeanor with the officers and deputy marshal and her somewhat startled reactions to him. With the others, she’d tended to set her jaw in a stubborn way. As if she was preparing to take on any pissing contests to come her way, and they were a certainty rather than a possibility.
He wasn’t sure if she’d noticed the difference in her own behavior yet, but he was hoping she would allow it to continue. Otherwise, she’d be every bit as boring as every other person assigned to protect him.
And really, he couldn’t afford to be bored. It’d lead to too much thinking about things he couldn’t take action on until after this entire mess was behind him.
The phone she’d left for him was on the table. She’d asked him to leave his personal electronics back at the Safeguard offices. However inconvenient, the precaution was understandable. He had the critical information he needed for the next several days at least. Never would he admit the twitch he experienced, habitually reaching for his smartphone.
He glanced at the screen of the loaned phone to quickly scan the incoming text from her and moved to the door. As she’d instructed, he stood to the side rather than in front of it and listened for her.
“Here.” Her voice whispered through the door, just loud enough to be heard.
He undid the dead bolts—really, why were there more than one—and let her into the room.
She entered, her dark gaze sweeping around the apartment and cataloging everything in sight. “Sorry, took a minute or two longer than I’d intended.”
“A minute or two is inexcusable.” He smiled at her.
Her brows wrinkled for a moment before she registered his sarcasm and let out a quick sigh as she turned and relocked the door. “In a lot of cases, it is.”
So serious. He searched her expression. Her lips were pressed together and her eyes weren’t focused on him anymore. Instead, there was the barest moment in which she was lost in memory.
“In this case, I think the worst consequence might be cold coffee.” He regretted having brought up unfortunate recollections. Everyone had them. He made it a practice not to delve into his if at all possible so bringing them up for someone else wasn’t something he did purposely.
“The cups are decently insulated.” She moved to the small table and set down the cup carrier.
He followed, stepping into her personal space by a couple of inches to see if she got standoffish. She didn’t back away but she turned immediately to face him and glare. He prudently held up his hands and stepped to the side to give her room, but he wasn’t about to back away from the cups she’d brought.