“Is he actually a billionaire?” I asked. “Hard to tell from his Wiki.”
“Well, he’s certainly got a couple of quid,” said James. “Put it this way—does it really matter once you get past fifty mil? Billionaire is just branding at that stage.”
Eliza lifted a tiny ginger kitten onto her knee and stroked its head with her index finger. “Whatever he’s got going with this politician bloke, Andy, von Roth needs you on his arm. Like, really needs you. Which means, you’ve got the upper hand. And he knows it.”
I opened my mouth, then shut it again. I had to admit, the thought of Liam having to depend on me like this gave me a deeply petty glow. A man like that—so used to being in charge. He’dhateit. Watching him grit his perfect teeth every time I smiled sweetly for the photos at his friend’s fancy-pants château would almost make the Chewbacca rash incident worth it.
It was nothing to do with fancying Liam. I couldn’t stand the man.
And he clearly was no great fan of mine, either.
But I did like France. And a château sounded nice.
“Don’t look so pleased with yourself,” James said, catching the flicker of my expression. He waved his jammy knife at me like a gavel. “This is strategy, not fantasy.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on. It’s a little bit fantasy.”
Eliza snorted into her drink.
“Redundancies, darling.” James sniffed. “Keep that in mind. It’s musical chairs, and you’ll want to be the one still sitting.”
I let the macaron crumble between my fingers. They were right. This was about job security. But the rare, delicious chance to watch Liam von Roth squirm didn’t hurt.
My phone vibrated on the table, and two cats jumped backward as if they’d seen a snake. It wasn’t a number I recognized. Who was messaging me at 6:10 p.m. on a Saturday?
Unknown Number:Hi, Andrea. It’s Liam. Can we catch up, please? If you’re not toobusy.
A bolt of adrenaline slammed through my heart.
“It’s Liam.”
Eliza’s eyes grew round. James leaned so far over the table that he nearly headbutted a macaron. “LiamLiam? No. What does he want?”
“How should I know?” I said, panic already rising. “Maybe to fire me?”
Another buzz.
Unknown Number:Where areyou?
James flapped his hands like he was bringing in aircraft. “Don’t tell him. That’s how people end up with their picture on a milk carton.”
“Maybe just… keep it vague?” said Eliza.
“Too late.” My thumbs had betrayed me.
James covered his face. “You told him where you are?”
“Well … yeah.”
What had I done?
Unknown Number:I’m close by. I’ll come to you. Fiveminutes.
Shit. My hair. My clothes. I was totally rocking a mad cat lady look. My lap was covered in little white hairs. I started brushing them off, to little avail.
Eliza and James exchanged a look. “We’re leaving,” Eliza said firmly.
“Yep. No audience necessary,” James added. “You’ve got… whatever this is. Want us to wait around the corner in case he tries anything?”
