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We stand, and he follows me over to the door. Gosh, he’s tall—he towers over me, and he’s big—big hands, big shoulders, big… feet.
“What should I wear?” I ask.
“It’s semi-formal.”
“Okay.” I have no idea what that means. Hopefully Caro and Hana will give me some clues. “Thank you for lunch.”
“You’re welcome.”
I bend to say goodbye to Gus, then straighten. Mack has closed the distance between us, and he’s close enough now that if I were to reach onto my tiptoes, I’d be able to kiss his jaw. He smells amazing. And he’s so gorgeous.
It’s such a shame I’m the worst human being on Earth.
“Goodbye,” I murmur, and before he can say anything else, I slip out of the door and walk fast toward the exit.
Once I’m out of the building, I scurry over to my car, heart banging. I’ve just got inside when my mobile buzzes, announcing a call. Is it him already?
It’s not.
The screen informs me the caller is Socrates. I don’t think it’s his real name.
I’m tempted to ignore it, or just end the call, but I know better than to push this guy’s buttons.
I answer it, “Hello?”
“Why did he call you into his office?” he asks.
“How did you know that?” I demand.
“Just answer the question. Did he find out about last night?”
I swallow hard. “No. I dropped a… piece of paper, and he wanted to give it back to me.”
“What was on the paper?”
“Something private,” I say sharply. “Not connected to you in any way.”
“Was that it? Why didn’t he send it over in a cab?”
I study my fingernails. It takes all my willpower not to tell him to fuck off. “He wanted to meet me.”
“And?”
I close my eyes. “He’s asked me to a party tonight.”
“At Huxley’s?”
I know there’s no point in asking how he knows. “Yes.”
“Perfect,” he says. “He has a suite there, and he often stays the night. He usually takes his briefcase and leaves it there. Get him to take you back to the room and see if you can get into the briefcase.”
My heart, which had previously soared, sinks to the ground like a popped balloon. I lean forward and put my forehead on the steering wheel. My eyes sting.
“I don’t want to,” I whisper.
“Really? Have you forgotten what’s at stake?”
I bite my bottom lip hard. “No.”
