Chapter 1 - Nothing to Offer

“If I said I wanted nothing from you—not your money, not your protection, not your name—would you still want me sitting here?”

For several seconds, Nathan did not answer.

Men had lied to him with guns in their hands. Politicians had smiled across private tables while selling favors by the sentence. Women had told him they loved him while measuring the square footage of his houses.

Hannah Cole simply waited.

“Yes,” he said at last.

Her eyebrows lifted. “That was suspiciously fast.”

“It was not fast.”

“You took four seconds.”

“I have made life-or-death decisions in less.”

“That is not reassuring on a blind date.”

Nathan almost smiled again, but his security chief, Mateo Ruiz, had stopped beside the table.

“Mr. Mercer.”

Nathan heard the warning in the formality. “What happened?”

Mateo glanced at Hannah, then leaned closer. “A vehicle has been circling the block. Same plate we saw outside Fulton last week.”

Hannah looked between them. “Should I pretend I didn’t hear that?”

“No,” Nathan said.

Mateo’s jaw tightened. “We should leave.”

Hannah reached for her tote. “Then leave.”

Nathan looked at her. “You’re coming with me.”

“There it is.”

“What?”

“The part where you confuse concern with issuing orders.”

“Someone may be watching this café.”

“Someone may be watching you.”

“And you are sitting with me.”

She stood. “Which was Rachel’s mistake, apparently.”

Nathan rose as the server arrived with a tray of food no one had touched. Around them, conversation had thinned. Customers were pretending not to stare at Mateo and the second security man near the door.

Nathan lowered his voice. “Hannah, I am asking you to let my driver take you home.”

“That sounded almost normal.”

“I can make it less normal.”

“I believe you.”

A sharp crack came from outside.

Every one of Nathan’s men moved at once.

Mateo grabbed Nathan’s shoulder and pushed him toward the interior wall. Another guard crossed in front of Hannah. Glass trembled in the front window as a black SUV accelerated away from the curb.

People screamed.

Hannah froze for half a second, then dropped beside an elderly woman who had stumbled between two tables.

“Are you hurt?” Hannah asked.

The woman shook her head, terrified.

Nathan stared toward the street. “Gunshot?”

Mateo checked the window. “No impact. Could have been a backfire. Could have been a warning.”

“Plate?”

“Obscured.”

Hannah helped the woman into a chair.

Nathan watched her hands. They were shaking.

She noticed him noticing.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“Neither is she.” Hannah nodded toward the elderly woman. “Maybe use some of that terrifying influence to get everyone’s meals comped after your security team turned tea into a hostage situation.”

Despite himself, Nathan exhaled a laugh.

Mateo looked at him as if laughter were proof of neurological damage.

Ten minutes later, they were in the underground garage beneath the café. Hannah stopped beside a black sedan.

“This is ridiculous.”

“It is a car.”

“It looks armored.”

“It is armored.”

“Of course it is.”

Nathan opened the rear door.

She did not move.

“Where do you live?” he asked.

“Logan Square.”

“Good. We can be there in twenty minutes.”

“I can take the train.”

“No.”

Her face hardened.

Nathan caught himself. “Please.”

That single word seemed to surprise both of them.

Hannah studied him, then climbed inside. “I’m only agreeing because I’d rather not test whether your mysterious SUV people also ride the Blue Line.”

Nathan sat across from her.

As the car pulled away, she looked out the window. “Does this happen often?”

“No.”

Mateo’s voice came from the front. “That is not accurate.”

Hannah turned slowly.

Nathan glared at the partition.

She laughed. “I like him.”

“Most people do not.”

“That might be because most people work for you.”

The city slid past in wet streaks of amber light.

After several blocks, Hannah said, “You never answered the second half.”

“There was a second half?”

“If I want nothing from you, what do you want from me?”

Nathan looked at her.

He could have said companionship. Honesty. A woman who did not calculate him before speaking.

Instead he said, “Another coffee.”

Her expression softened by a fraction.

“At a place where coffee costs less than rent?”

“Choose it.”

“And no tasting trays.”

“Fine.”

“No men standing five feet away pretending not to listen.”

From the front seat, Mateo said, “Impossible.”

Hannah laughed again.

Nathan felt something unfamiliar loosen in his chest.

Then his phone vibrated.

One message.

Unknown number.

A photograph loaded slowly.

Hannah entering the café twenty-seven minutes earlier.

Below it were six words.

YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED ALONE, MERCER.

Nathan’s face changed.

Hannah saw it immediately.

“What?”

He turned the phone face down.

“Nothing.”

Her eyes went cold.

“You just failed your first test.”

Nathan said nothing.

She leaned forward. “If you want another coffee with me, do not decide what I’m allowed to know.”

He looked at her for a long moment.

Then he turned the phone over.

Hannah read the message.

The color left her face, but she did not look away.

“Now,” she said quietly, “we can decide what to do with the truth.”

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Nathan realized that was the first thing anyone had said to him in years that frightened him more than the threat.

Because for once, he wanted to do exactly what someone else asked.