Page 83 of Downforce

“Max, this isn’t a good idea. You and me,” she says in a whisper. Her tone lacks conviction.

“That ship has sailed, princess.” I back her up until her back is against the wall again. “What time should we have dinner?”

“I’m working today.”

“Does six o’clock work?”

She visibly swallows.

“I know your employer, and I seriously doubt he has you working until much later in the evening.”

Her eyes narrow.

“Six o’clock tonight.”

“I have plans.”

“With me,” I say because I know she’s lying.

“Miami should’ve never happened,” she says almost to herself.

“But it did,” I remind her, not bothering to suppress the bite in my voice. The idea that she wants to erase that night in Miami, the memory of which I’ve been living off of since it happened, sends a shockwave of anger through me.

“And I’m not going to let you or I forget about it,” I tell her.

“I have to go.” This time she starts for the door.

“Six o’clock,” I remind her, uncaring that she hasn’t committed to dinner with me tonight. It will happen because I’m done pretending as if this thing between us isn’t building intensity.

I’m done ignoring the ways in which she and I have played this dance for years; sneaking glances across the room at one another while barely exchanging words when up close, save for her snarky remarks before quickly excusing herself from my vicinity.

Annalise Townsend is on a new timeline now. Just as determined as I am to reinvigorate my career this season, I’m as doggedly committed to having Annalise by my side as I do it.

CHAPTER 24

Annalise

“We’ll arrive in Monte-Carlo on the first,” my mom says over the phone.

“Plane lands at four-fifty-five in the afternoon, and the driver is scheduled to pick the four of you up. I was just on the phone with the car service earlier this afternoon,” I reassure my mother.

She laughs.

“What?”

“Nothing. I was just saying it out loud for me to hear. I knew you would have all of the details down to the minute.”

I grin but don’t reply because there’s no need to go into detail with my mother about how I checked and rechecked my family’s travel schedule all of the way down to the minute. She knows.

“And I’m sure Chloe will wait until an hour before we leave to start packing. It’s funny how different you two are.”

No, Chloe tends to be less detail oriented than I am, especially when it comes to something that she doesn’t care that much about.

“She’s better at numbers and athletics,” I reply.

“You both have your unique talents. Just like all four of my babies.”

I snort. “We’re not babies.”