The Frame-Up (The Golden Arrow #1)(26)

“I think I can move it around, that is, if you want to go? Doesn’t it sound fun? Movies with friends?” Innocence. Pure innocence.

And now I’m the bad guy if I say no. Frickin’ brilliant. “Can I see you over here for a moment?” I grab Matteo’s solid arm and pull him closer to the door. It’s the first time I’ve grabbed him instead of the other way around, and I don’t like contemplating asking him how often he has to work out to be a detective. It must be often from the feel of his muscled arm beneath my hand. My palms are sweating again. Fake relationship, MG. Fake relationship. I can no longer deny my attraction to Matteo. But now he’s my partner? Boss? There are rules against these things. “Are you trying to undermine me at every turn, or is it just a particular talent you have?”

Color appears at his collar, either from my accusation or the fact that I’m still touching him. I release him like I’m holding molten steel, accidentally brushing his hand with mine as I retract my arm. I pull my hands into my chest, likely resembling an off-balance Tyrannosaurus rex.

“It might be the perfect opportunity to look into your coworkers. Get to know them.” I know he’s thinking about the bandage on Kyle’s wrist, and I have to admit, I’m curious too.

I’ve stayed silent while Matteo has interrupted me too many times, and the gloves are coming off. “Then maybe do you want to ask me instead of barging right through and trying to control my life?”

He looks suitably ashamed but meets my eye. “Can we go to your work party?”

It’s at this point that I realize we’re being watched by all of my team. They might as well have popcorn, they look so entertained. Here I am, a novelty again. This one of my own making, though. Surely it won’t be that bad to go hang out for a few hours in the name of helping solve this case. I’m hoping the “greater good” works out better for me than for Dumbledore.

I address the peanut gallery first, “Thanks for the invite. I think we’ll be able to make it.” I lower my voice and address Matteo, “As long as someone behaves themselves, capisce?” My world. My rules.

Matteo nods once in agreement to me, then waves to Tej, Kyle, and Simon before heading out the door. Why, when this comic has helped my life for so many years, is The Hooded Falcon wreaking such havoc this time?





CHAPTER 10

No matter how hard I try, I can’t get Ryan or Lawrence to vacate the house on Thursday. Ryan’s office day moved to Friday, so it’s to a full audience that I open the door before Matteo can knock.

I need to keep this meeting brief, especially since we’re going to be relegated to my bedroom instead of the living room. “I’m giving you thirty minutes.”

He takes in my bright-blue cheetah yoga pants and black T-shirt. “Looks like a real ballbuster day at the office.”

I will not laugh. We’re serious work partners now. This is a business meeting. But I smirk, and he sees it and looks satisfied. Every time I try to put him into a box, he goes and gets all witty and charming again.

And dammit, he smells good. Who wears . . . I sniff . . . awesome-smelling laundry detergent to a work meeting? Look at me, weak-kneed from laundry detergent fumes. I definitely have been dating the wrong people if clean clothes are a turn-on.

“I am working,” I say, closing the door behind him.

“I don’t doubt it. You are a woman of your word.” He reaches down to take off his shoes, and it’s oddly intimate to see him in stocking feet in my entryway.

“Thirty minutes,” I say again, and I turn to lead him into my room when I come nose-to-chest with Lawrence. And Ryan. Holding Trogdor.

“This is your big work meeting, huh?” Ryan looks at Matteo like he just stepped out of a spacecraft from Jakku. There is no skirting this introduction.

“Matteo.” Matteo leans across me, easy as can be, and holds out his hand to Ryan and Lawrence. He doesn’t even wince when Lawrence gives him the squeeze of a lifetime, his signature “don’t mess with my girl” move. He also doesn’t bat an eyelash at the bedazzled paisley headscarf Lawrence has wrapped around his head today or the bright-silver polish on his nails. Two more points for him.

“Ryan,” my roommate offers in return, then continues to stand there.

The intro doesn’t budge Ryan or L, so I let out a blustery sigh. “What’s with the third degree?”

Ryan feigns innocence. “No interrogation here. We’re just being friendly, MG. Where are your manners?” says the guy who grunts instead of forming words while he’s gaming. Unless, of course, they’re curse words. Those emerge perfectly and often.

I want to keep everyone away from Matteo, especially Lawrence. What if Matteo mentions that I’ve told him about Casey Senior’s journal? “You’ve met Ryan. This is Trogdor and Lawrence.” I motion to each of them in turn, then look at Ryan. “Satisfied?”

Now Ryan’s got some sort of smirk on his face. Great. “Supremely.”

“So glad I could entertain you,” I say dryly.

“Trogdor. Like Homestar Runner?” Matteo asks. I whip my head around and eye him. I know he has no idea who Trogdor is. He must have googled it after he met Trog last time.

“Yeah.” Ryan turns the dog over, little stub legs in the air. Like a man possessed, he starts doing our personalized imitation of the Trogdor dragon video, altered for the dog. “First you draw a loaf of bread, then you draw anodder loaf of bread, and then you draw two pizza slices on the head for ears . . .” Trog licks Ryan’s face.