Page 127 of Suite 7

“I think Kane should date whoever he wants. Not who his sister picks.”

Sloane’s smile falters. “I’m not picking. I’m... facilitating. He deserves someone good.”

“I know.” My gaze drifts across the room before I can stop it. Finds him without trying.

“Earth to Vee.” Sloane waves her hand in front of my face. “Were you checking out my brother?”

My heart stops. “What? No. I was admiring the architecture.”

“Uh huh.” She’s grinning. “You know, for two people who claim to hate each other, you spend a lot of time looking at each other.”

“We don’t⁠⁠—“

“Relax, I’m kidding!” She laughs. “Although it would be kind of hilarious if you two started liking each other.”

She has no idea how right she is.

“Never going to happen,” I force out. “We’re too different. He’s so serious about everything,”

Sloane sighs. “Yeah. He needs someone who doesn’t add to the intensity. Someone easy to be with, you know? Someone who — fits.”

Each word lands exactly where she doesn’t know she’s aiming it.

A server appears with fresh champagne. I take a glass I don’t need.

A buzz in my clutch.

Gerald: Go to the front desk. Give them your name. Package waiting. Then bathroom, open it alone. Trust me.

My heart stops.

Then restarts at double speed.

“Sloane, I have to go to the bathroom. Be right back.”

“Hurry back though, Lisa might come back.”

Perfect.

The receptionist smiles when I approach. “Ms. Beckett? Yes, this was left for you.”

A small black box. Unmarked. Sleek.

I take it with trembling hands.

The bathroom is mercifully empty. I lock myself in the largest stall, sit on the closed lid. The party sounds muffled through two doors. Someone’s heels on marble. The silk of my dress cold against my thighs.

My hands shake as I open the box.

Inside: a sleek remote-controlled vibrator.

And a note on his firm’s letterhead, in his precise handwriting.

Wear this. Trust me. P.S I have the remote. — K

Oh my god.

This is his professional event. His colleagues. His clients. His sister.