He sank into the leather chair in front of his boss and waited, expectantly.
"How have you been, Julian?" her voice was low, smoky, alto.
"Alright."
"Tell me, this girl you've been spending time with—who is she?"
"A friend of a friend."
"Does she suspect you?"
"Why would she?"
She flipped her mane of chocolate brown hair over her shoulder and stared at him. "Have you given her any reason to?"
He considered carefully. "She did seem interested in the Rambaldi clock that Sloane has, but Emily and I played it as though it were a dead subject."
"I don't need to remind you the risks of fraternization."
"You're correct, you don't," his tone hardened slightly. "Will that be all, then?"
"For now anyway. Be careful, Julian."