I sling my purse over my shoulder. “You can tell Alexei I made it home alive. No alligator attacks or tragic encounters with Savannah drivers.”
One side of Viktor’s mouth twitches. That tiny reaction nearly knocks a laugh out of me.
My phone starts ringing before I reach the elevator.
Jules.
Of course, it’s Jules.
I answer with a sigh. “Mornin’.”
“Oh, she lives.” His voice pours through the speaker thick with drama. “I was beginnin’ to plan your memorial service. Closed casket, naturally. I assumed you died from excessive sexual tension.”
I close my eyes. “Jules.”
“I also considered poisonin’. Rich people love poisonin’ each other.”
I step into the lobby and jab the elevator button with my thumb. “You watch too much television.”
“And you read too many romance novels.”
The elevator dings a second later. I step inside, leaning my head back briefly against the wall while the doors slide shut. By the time I reach my floor and unlock my apartment door, Jules is still talking. I walk inside and push the door shut behind me.
“It’s seven-thirty in the mornin’. Why do you have this much energy?”
“Because unlike you, Magnolia Hayes, I slept in my own bed.” He pauses. “Wait. Did you sleep?”
My face goes hot instantly. That smug little silence on the other end tells me he hears it.
“Oh my God.” Jules gasps loud enough to wake the dead. “You didn’t.”
“I hate you.”
“No, honey, you hate that I’m right.”
I kick off my shoes beside the sofa and drag a hand through my hair. “I’m showerin’ and comin’ to the shelter.”
Jules makes a thoughtful hum into the phone. “So that’s a yes.”
“It’s not a yes.”
“Maggie.”
“Jules.” I roll my eyes and rub a hand over my forehead.
“You spent the night with the terrifying hot Russian.”
“He has a name.”
A dramatic gasp crackles through the speaker. “That right there tells me everything I need to know.”
I groan into my hand.
Jules cackles. Honestly cackles.
“You’re smiling,” he accuses.
“I am not.” I press my lips together even though he can’t see me.
