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Coty gives me a blink of recognition and turns to leave the hallway without a single backward glance.
Lace steps out of the office, but I block her way by leaning forward and slamming my hand against the wall beside her head.
I swear the woman has no fear. Rather than jolt in surprise, she straightens her spine and lifts her chin.
“All I have to do is snap my fingers, and the illusion of you dealing with this ‘on your own terms’ goes away forever.”
A flicker of apprehension finally flashes in her gin-colored eyes. Dare I say one of the first flickers I have ever seen from her. Perhaps later, I can unpack which part about my comment triggered that tease.
“Be pretty. Put out. And stop. Fucking. Asking. Questions,” I demand.
Then, I remove my arm-barricade and step back. With the whisper of a scoff she spins on her hooker heels and click-clacks away.
