She attempted to return his smile, still crying though. Tears, water from the pool streaming down her trembling body. He would have loved to dally, sample all that was on offer, but he was operating on a time crunch now. “Please don’t tell. Please . . .”

“Life is full of difficult choices,” he murmured.

“If there is anything I can do”—her tongue darted out in an attempt to moisten lips that had gone dry as dust—“to help make the decision easier, just say the word.” Her hands were still in the air. She was trying so hard not to freak out, it was really quite luscious.

Too bad she had to die.

38

“You aren’t hungry?” Mick’s voice cut through Sarah’s tangled thoughts. She glanced at the slice of avocado toast in her hand. It was perfectly fine. The avocado was soft and silky. The crushed heirloom tomato confit added a nice touch of acid and color, so why was she having such a difficult time getting it down?

“It’s delicious,” she replied, taking another bite even though her stomach was in knots.

They were eating breakfast in the Garden at the Four Seasons on East Fifty-Seventh Street. When they were finished, they would head over to 450 Lexington. Sarah forced herself to chew and swallow. She needed to eat, to fortify herself, to ensure that she fed her body and mind so she was battle ready and sharp. She took another bite, chewed. Reached for her glass of fresh-pressed orange juice to help wash it down. “Although, when one considers that they are charging thirty-two dollars, and that doesn’t include tax and tip.” She looked at the piece of avocado-smeared toast on her plate. “If you cost out the ingredients . . .”

“I can afford it.”

“Still. Doesn’t make it right.” Sarah was aware of her mouth opening and shutting, of inconsequential words coming out. Words that had nothing to do with the anxiety she was experiencing internally. After four years, she was going to be seeing one of her father’s oldest friends, a man whom she had considered an uncle. She was going to look Phillip Clarke in the face, confront him with the facts, and find out whether or not he had betrayed her and, by proxy, her father. “I never noticed the price of things before going on the run. Wouldn’t have thought twice about ordering something like this and then leaving the majority of the food on my plate.” She made herself take another bite.

“You’re trying to muscle that down, aren’t you?”

“So?”

“And you don’t want to leave it because of the cost.”

“Can’t take it to go. The avocado would go brown.”

“I see,” Mick said gravely. He tipped his head toward the other slice still on her plate. “You want me to eat that.”

“Would you?”