Schwartz

He looked up to meet Aiayana’s cool gaze in the mirror. She was in her black pants and jacket, a pale pink shirt the only note that showed she was off work. Her long black hair was in a bun at the nape of her neck.

She asked in her throaty voice,

‘Sure you do not want me to come? My contacts in the FBI are still around.’

He smiled slightly and shook his head. Crossing over to her, he said,

“No, baby. You stay here.’ he made to kiss her but she ...