“Fine, then let the recruiting continue,” I said. “I believe we have reservations tonight, on Tower’s dime? Some fancy restaurant?”

“Philemon’s. They do have really good lobster.” And we’d missed lunch, as my growling stomach was quick to point out.

“Then we’ll both get one. Maybe two. Let’s go recruit me in style,” I said, and finally she smiled, a glimpse of a rainbow after the storm. “What’s the dress code at this fancy restaurant?”

Kori frowned. “You’re gonna need a suit. And they’ll probably make me wear a dress.”

“I thought you hated dresses.”

“I do.”

“And I have a bet to win. So we’ll both wear jeans?”

Her smile grew just a little. “Mr. Holt, I think we may make a rebel of you yet.”

After a quick trip back to her sister’s apartment, Kori stepped out of my bathroom in a low-cut, drapey black silk blouse that bared a two-inch strip of skin down the center of her torso, all the way to the bottom of her sternum. I wasn’t sure how the damn thing even stayed on, and I caught myself holding my breath when she turned, watching for accidental gaps in the material.

“Wow, you look beautiful,” I whispered when she stepped into the light, trying not to stare. I hadn’t meant to say it. The words fell from my mouth before I could call them back.

“Does this cover all my rough edges?” She held her arms out hesitantly, like she wasn’t sure she wanted to be inspected. “’Cause I feel like it doesn’t cover much of anything.”

“Your rough edges are thoroughly hidden. But it’s good to know they’re still under there,” I said, my voice deeper than I’d intended it to be, my gaze glued to hers. My stomach twisted with nerves like I hadn’t felt since junior high. I clasped my hands at my back because that was the only way I could control them. I wanted to reach for Kori.

I was dying to touch her.

“I feel kinda stupid in the blouse,” she admitted, plucking nervously at the material. “But Kenley insisted this would keep me from getting tossed out of the restaurant.”

“Your sister has wonderful taste.” I crossed my arms over a pressed button-up shirt, tucked into my spare pair of jeans. Then I made myself think about Steven and Meghan—the mental reminder I needed in order to focus on the job at hand, rather than the woman in front of me. “Do you think she’d like to join us? Your sister?” Kori frowned, and I slid my hands into my pockets. “I’m interested in her role in the syndicate. I haven’t met many Binders.”

“She’s…with someone tonight.”

I shrugged. “So ask her to bring him. I’d love to get multiple perspectives on life in the Tower syndicate.”

Kori’s frown deepened. “I don’t think they’re ready to be seen out together. In public. Yet.” She reached for the bathroom doorknob. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” I buried my frustration, along with a sizable amount of guilt over the fact that I was about to dine in a five-star restaurant, while my brother lay dying, hidden away in his girlfriend’s childhood bedroom. “Let’s go.”

Kori took us through my darkened bathroom once again, this time into an alley behind the restaurant, deep with shadows in the setting sun. “Not the most glamorous way to travel, I know,” she admitted, as we stepped out onto the sidewalk. “But it’s definitely the fastest.”

Inside, the hostess wore an ankle-length black dress and a too-tight bun, and looked down her nose at our jeans. “We have a reservation for two,” Kori said.

“For what time?” She didn’t even look at the reservation list, as if she’d already decided we were lying.

“Actually I’m not sure. I didn’t make it,” Kori said, and the hostess’s gaze hardened even more.

“Mr. Holt? Ms. Daniels?” A man in an expensive suit plucked the list from the podium, brushing the hostess aside without even a glance. We both nodded, and the manager—who else could he be?—smiled like he was made of sunshine. “Mr. Tower reserved your table for the entire evening, so please take your time and enjoy your meal. Erin, if you don’t mind?” he said, gesturing for the hostess to show us to our table.

She took us to a quiet corner of the restaurant, where I somehow felt both sheltered and exposed, and before I could even glance at the menu, a waiter appeared to pour two glasses of red wine, explaining that Mr. Tower had selected it himself.

“Did he order our food, too?” Kori mumbled, and the waiter chuckled.

“No, but he did offer suggestions.”

We ordered several courses, and while we waited for the first of them, I sipped from my glass, watching her. “Tell me something about yourself. Something I don’t already know. Something about your family.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be talking about the syndicate?” she said, staring into her wine skeptically.

“Okay, then, tell me something about your family and the syndicate. Is this the family business, or is it just you and Kenley? Are your parents bound? Any other siblings?” I knew I was pushing my luck, but I had to find some way of bringing her sister back into the picture before too much time spent with Kori made me forget my purpose, or hell, even my own name. She was Calypso, and I was starting to worry that she’d caught me. And the scariest part was that in spite of the guilt, and the lies, and the ugly truth of my mission, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be released.