Behind the Green Curtain by Riley Lashea Page A

soft, with more skill than she could have imagined.
    Opening her mouth to return the
greeting, air wisped pointlessly across Caton’s lips as Sole poured another cup
of coffee without missing a beat and slid it across the bar. Stepping up next
to Caton without hesitation, Amelia was seemingly unbothered by their
proximity.
    “Thank you.” Amelia smiled at Sole.
    “You’re welcome,” Sole replied, and
Caton wondered how they were being so normal when the entire room was whirling
like a vortex.
    When Amelia’s attention turned to
her, Caton firmed her shoulders, meeting her gaze in a manner that would have
been challenging in the animal kingdom. Those eyes were as unreadable as ever,
justifying Caton’s anxiety that she would have no clue about anything from that
moment on. Whatever Amelia chose to do, whenever she chose to do it, Caton
would never see it coming.
    “Caton,” Amelia stated, voice low
and commanding, and every muscle in Caton’s body went weak. “Come with me.”
    Looking for anywhere to avert her
eyes, Caton landed on Sole, and wasn’t sure if she felt better or worse when
Sole winked her support, though she did manage to fake enough poise to follow
Amelia out of the kitchen.
    Walking the familiar path through
the front room and into the foyer - ‘the scene of the crime,’ as Caton now
thought of it - they made their way up the stairs, past Amelia’s office. Having
been beyond Amelia’s office door only once before, when Sole had showed her
around in the absence of the house’s masters, Caton felt as if she was being
granted further liberties. To what, she wasn’t entirely sure.
    The room next to Amelia’s office
had undergone a transformation, the storage space turned into a high-end
office, unneeded equipment carried off someplace unknown.
    “This is quite the set-up.” Caton
tried to inject a modicum of normalcy back into the situation.
    “There’s a lot to do,” Amelia
replied.
    “So, you do need help.” Caton made
no effort to withhold the reply, and something slipped in Amelia’s gaze, as if
a reaction might actually leak out.
    It could have been a good thing,
Caton considered, returning them to a place of mutual distrust, where Amelia
would order her back to the dungeons and Caton might survive by distance alone.
Whatever Amelia was thinking, though, she never revealed it, and distrust was
hardly the overwhelming sensation in the room.
    “What do you need?” Caton asked,
voice barely above a whisper.
    For a moment, she wasn’t asking a
work-related question, and she was convinced Amelia wanted more than her
assistance. When Amelia looked away, though, the spell ended before it could
truly take hold, leaving Caton unsteady in its wake.
    “I have to organize an event for
investors,” Amelia said, moving toward the computer and powering it on. “It’s
one of Jack’s pet projects, an organization that designs clean water devices.”
    “Shining Life,” Caton stated, and
Amelia glanced back, eyes dipping down Caton’s body for an instant, before
returning to Caton’s.
    “You know about Shining Life?” She
sounded impressed.
    “Yes.”
    “Good,” Amelia replied. “That will
make things easier.” Picking up a pile of papers from the desk top, she tugged
the chair from beneath the desk. “Here. Sit.”
    Gaze locking on Amelia’s hand on
the back of the expensive office chair, Caton was slow in following the
directive. As she at last dropped into the seat, Amelia’s fingers brushed the
back of her shirt, and Caton closed her eyes against the rush of memory of
where those fingers last touched her.
    Leaning over her shoulder, Amelia
laid the papers back on the desk, her hand spreading out next to them, long,
skilled fingers on flagrant display.
    “Here,” she whispered, lips so
close to Caton’s ear any other manner of speaking would have sounded like
yelling. “This is a list of potential investors. I need to talk to all of these
people, but ninety-five percent of