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Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-Three

Los Angeles, California

21 Months Earlier

FINN HAD a piece of wall in the ballroom staked out with a clear view of the entire space. He'd wanted a corner, but the room was rounded, and he'd had to settle for a spot away from the cash bars and entrances. He ran a finger under the collar of his dress shirt but resisted the urge to tug. The last time he'd worn a tuxedo had been at Ski and Langley's wedding, and the experience hadn't improved. Maybe he should have taken Zo's suggestion to buy a tux rather than renting one.

He had her phone in his left-hand pocket, along with her driver's license and lip gloss, and Finn reached in, brushing his fingers over her things before returning his hand to his side. Zo had been in demand this evening as one of the handful of Paladin League archaeologists present. His gaze skimmed the room until he located her on the dance floor. Her partner appeared to be close to sixty, and their conversation was animated, not merely polite .

After watching a moment longer, Finn returned to scanning the ballroom. There were only a couple of hundred guests. He'd expected more for a fundraiser, especially in Beverly Hills, but it hadn't taken too much circulating before he'd realized everyone present was either wealthy beyond comprehension, a Hollywood star, or both. Excluding the Paladin League representatives, of course.

Archer approached from his right, and Finn shifted into a more advantageous position. Not that he expected to have to fight his boss, but it paid to be cautious around the man.

"Are you here to remind me to mingle?" Finn asked when Archer pulled to a stop beside him. It was automatic to fall into the personality he used when the man was around.

Shaking his head, Archer said, "I will, later. You found the best spot to disappear inside the ballroom."

"And you plan to share it with me."

Instead of responding, Archer said, "No one complains about these events more than Zofia when it's her turn to attend, and yet she handles it better than any other archaeologist we have. The donors always write larger checks when she's at the party. She knows the right things to say, the right clothes to wear."

Finn's eyes returned to her on the dance floor. "The right clothes?"

"A classic-style evening gown, not too sexy, but not frumpish either."

Zo did look good. The black dress was sleeveless, it covered her collarbone, and the skirt was loose enough that she could run—or kick some ass—if she needed to. His lips curved. After what happened with Ski's wife a while back, it had been the first thing Finn had checked out when Zo had been getting dressed. "She'd look great in anything," he corrected.

Archer's grunt was noncommittal. "You're dressed appropriately as well. "

Finn shrugged. "It's hard to mess up a tuxedo."

"You would think so, and yet I've had archaeologists show up looking like they were part of a Vegas lounge show."

The silence settled, and Finn let it linger before he asked, "Why didn't you let Zo off the hook tonight?"

That pulled the man's gaze back to him. "I tried, but she refused."

"Yeah," Finn said. He could see Zo insisting it was her turn, and she wasn't shirking her responsibilities.

"Did you already have plans?" The query sounded polite, nothing more, and yet Finn doubted it was a casual question. Archer was rarely off-hand.

"No." Finn didn't offer any additional information. Their boss knew Zo well enough to understand she would have alerted Finn about this gala far in advance. He watched the man out of the corner of his eye, but his expression remained bland, giving nothing away. The question could have had dozens of motivations, even ones that hadn't occurred to Finn yet. Archer played a deep game.

"You are planning to celebrate her birthday, correct?"

Finn's eyes narrowed. "Yes." His voice was every bit as neutral as Archer's had been. "Why do you ask?"

There was a brief pause. "You better cut in."

Finn's gaze immediately went to the dance floor, but Zo was smiling her real smile, and he saw no signs of distress. "Earlier, you told me not to cut in or interrupt her no matter what."

"So I did, but Mr. Cabot's wife has been drinking"—he made an unobtrusive gesture toward a scowling blonde woman at one of the cash bars across the room—"and judging from the jealous glares she's casting at Zo, she's close to breaking up the dance herself. If you do it, there won't be a scene."

Finn was moving before Archer finished speaking. Zo would hate being the center of attention, especially this kind of attention. He tapped Cabot on the shoulder. The man hesitated before reluctantly stepping aside.

"Thank you, Zofia. I enjoyed our conversation," he said, then with a brief inclination of his head to Finn, the older man left.

Zo moved into Finn's arms. "You didn't need to run to the rescue. Bernard wasn't putting any moves on me. He's fascinated by the Incan and Mayan civilizations and was asking interesting questions."

Finn tugged Zo closer to avoid another couple, and kept her there. "Archer sent me. He said the man's wife was about to go off."

She looked around, sighed, and said, "I hate these things."

"I know, loquita. Hell of a way to spend your birthday."

Her expression transformed into a smile. "It could be worse. I could be in a catfight with a billionaire's trophy wife."

"You'd take her."

"Maybe not. She probably works out every day with her personal trainer and goes to Pilates."

"Is Pilates still a thing?"

Zo shrugged. "Who knows? The point is that she wouldn't be a pushover."

"Yeah, but you're no pushover either, and you have me for a trainer."

Zo's smile broadened. "You did teach me to take out an attacker. Sadly, I don't think the Paladin League would get the donation Bernard promised if I put his wife on the floor." For a moment, she stayed quiet then added, "I'd rather dance with you than fight anyway. I'm talked out, and needed the break."

Finn settled Zo deeper into his embrace. She could fake being outgoing better than he could—and he was damn good when he wanted to be—but when it came down to it, she was more introverted than he was. Over the past few months, he'd learned that she wouldn't shut it down, that she'd run herself empty, and it was up to him to make sure it didn't happen. So when the song segued into a waltz, he continued to dance, not letting her step away.

"I don't know why everyone wants to talk to me anyway," she groused, but there was more mellow in her voice than there had been, and it told him she was relaxing.

"You're an archaeologist, and they're donating to the Paladin League because they have an interest. Of course, they want to talk to you." She stiffened, and Finn knew her argument before she even voiced it—he should after hearing it so many times. "Yes, you are an archaeologist. From what Archer said, you were about five minutes away from your PhD."

"Not quite," Zo said, but she left it there.

"Why didn't you finish?" he asked again. Zo had never explained the other times he'd put the question to her. "You were nearly there."

Because they were so close together, Finn felt Zo stiffen. He waited for her to walk away in order to evade the topic. She'd done it before, but Zo did reply. "It was easier to kill expectations than manage them." She changed the subject before he could quiz her about what she meant. "Do you have my phone?"

She knew he did, and although he was curious why she'd check, he didn't ask. "Yes, do you need it?"

"Did you feel it vibrate?"

She'd gotten calls and texts during the day from her friends, including people in Puerto Jardin. There was only one person he thought she might be hoping to hear from who hadn't contacted her. "Do you think Marianna might text you for your birthday?"

"No, she won't risk it. She'd be scared that it would put me in danger, too, and she'd never take the chance." Zo sighed. "I'll assume your question means you didn't feel the phone vibrate."

"Did you want to take a look?"

Zo shook her head, but what concerned Finn was that she wouldn't meet his eyes. "No. There's no point. I didn't expect anything."

"Who did you think would call?" She didn't answer. "Loquita?"

The song was drawing to a close, and Zo stepped back, breaking his hold before she said, "My parents."

Finn caught her hand before she could escape. "What?"

She tugged once, but when he didn't release her, she scowled at him before resignation settled on her features. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Then you shouldn't have said anything." But she had, which meant she was ready to share something. "Come on, let's take a walk."

Another light tug, and she fell into step with him. It took a lot of effort to get her out of the ballroom and into the garden without being stopped by anyone, but he managed it. Once they were away from the hotel, Finn said, "Okay, now we can have a conversation without Archer breathing fire."

Zo made a face. "Archer would never show that much emotion."

"Figuratively then." The paths were well lit, the garden carefully maintained with flowers of different pinks lining the path. She pushed her long hair behind her shoulder with her free hand, a nervous gesture. Zo had curled it and pulled the sides up into some ponytail-braid thing, but she left most of it loose. It was sexy as fuck, but it also gave him a clear view of her face. "You never talk about your family," Finn said, keeping his tone even.

"You had me checked out in Puerto Jardin. You know everything that matters."

Not even close. He stroked his thumb over her palm, hoping to soothe her. "We've been living together for close to three months now—I don't remember you talking to your parents."

"That's because I haven't. "

Since she sounded defensive, Finn nodded calmly and didn't immediately ask another question. He hadn't grown up with a family of his own and didn't know firsthand how they worked, but it was clear there'd been some kind of fallout here. One that hurt Zo.

Another couple neared, and Finn started walking again—holding Zo's hand—until he found an out-of-the-way spot where he didn't think anyone else would interrupt them. Keeping his tone easy, he asked, "They haven't called you, so have you tried calling them?"

Zo laughed, a sound with no amusement. "I called for Mother's Day and Father's Day. I had to leave a voicemail because they didn't pick up. Neither of them bothered to return my call." She tugged her hand free and put a few feet of distance between them. "I usually have to leave a message. Sometimes they'll call back in a week or two." She shrugged as if it didn't cause her pain. "It's been that way for a couple years now."

"What happened a couple of years ago?"

"I dropped out of my PhD program and went to work for the Paladin League. I knew they wouldn't like it. I didn't realize what my punishment would be for not following the script they'd written for my life."

Zo pivoted away before he could read the expression on her face, but there'd been multiple emotions in her voice—anger, hurt, bewilderment, and maybe a touch of desperation. Finn went to her, put his hands on her shoulders, and turned her back toward him. There were no tears—he'd never seen her actually cry—but her face wasn't composed either, the pain written there was so stark that he wrapped his arms around her and cuddled her against his chest.

Her fingers bit into his back as she held him tightly, and Finn stroked her nape under the fall of her hair. "I'm sorry, loquita. I'm sorry," he murmured as he caressed her.

Suddenly, what she'd said earlier made more sense. When he'd asked her why she hadn't finished her degree when she was so close, she'd said it was easier to kill expectations than to manage them. She'd been talking about her parents' expectations.

When she seemed calmer, he said, "So they had your future mapped out for you."

"Oh, yeah. I went along with it for most of my life to please them, and I wanted a lot of the same things. I wanted to be an archaeologist. I wanted to focus on pre-Columbian civilizations. I even wanted to concentrate on the Huarona people…like they had. Then Archer approached me about going to work for him." She shrugged one shoulder. "My parents didn't take the news well."

Zo's voice had been thick, so Finn eased her back enough so he could see her face in the lamplight. There were no tears, and she'd gathered herself now. Her features were almost composed. Almost, but not quite. "They didn't want you to go to work for the Paladin League? Not even the legitimate side?"

Her lips twisted. "They only know about the public-facing side of the organization. It's better that way, believe me. But no, their plan was for me to become a college professor like them. I had to teach while I was in grad school. I hated it." Zo shook her head. "No, hate is too mild a word. I loathed it. Lecturing, grading papers…" She let her voice trail off. "The boredom. I'm not cut out for their path. I can't even handle the tedium of a dig site, and at least that's real archaeology."

Finn's lips curved. "I know. You like some adventure in your job."

His loquita returned the smile. "Yes. I kind of drifted along, figuring I'd deal with my career after I graduated, but…" She let her voice trail off.

"But Archer showed up."

"With the perfect job for me." Zo sighed. "It was the spur I needed to finally address the elephant in the room. "

"And dropping out of your grad school program underlined for your parents that you were done with their path."

Another long sigh. "Yes, dropping out of school and breaking up with the man they wanted me to marry were my ways of making it clear that I was living my own life."

"Marry? You were engaged?" Finn felt poleaxed.

"Hell, no! He was my parents' type, not mine."

Her answer allowed him to breathe again. "What is your type?"

"If you can't figure it out, you're not as smart as I thought." Zo went up on tiptoes, pressed her lips against his, and walked past him, heading back to the hotel.

With a grin, Finn followed her.

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