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Sure am.
I’m going to the Met. If you are there and can get me away from my guard, then I’d be in your debt forever.
This is going to be fun.
Where do you want to go when I sneak you away?
I’d kill for a burger.
No need to kill. And I have the perfect place in mind. Just text when you get there.
Okay.
See you soon.
I smile, dropping my phone into my bag. Opening my door, I run into the hard chest of Odin.
“What was that?”
Guilt makes my eyes widen. How does he know about the texts?
“What was what?”
“That standoff in the dining room.”
Oh.That.
“Nothing.”
“Anna.”
“It’s nothing, really. My mother just wants me to lose some weight before the wedding, as I’m sure you already know since you approved my meal last night.”
His jaw tics, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Is Weselton ready? I’d like to get to the Met before it gets too busy.”
“He’s waiting in the lobby.”
I nod and move to sidestep him, but he stops me by grabbing my arm.
“Don’t disappoint me.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m trusting you and letting you have this little outing. Do not disappoint me.”
His tone is final. I’m getting one shot, and it pisses me off. Well, he’s not the boss of me!
I pull away from him, making my way to the elevator. Is it possible he knows that I was texting with Flynn? Freja implied that our phones were being watched. If that’s the case, then Odin likely does know about Flynn and what I’m planning on doing when I get to the Met. A shiver works its way up my spine. Well, let him watch. Because I’m just getting started.
In the lobby, Weselton is waiting, his hands clasped in front of him. He’s scary and intimidating—the perfect soldier to a Mafia Don. He even has a scar on his cheek. I’ve seen enough scars to guess that this one came from a knife fight.
“Ms. Aakre. The car is being brought around.”
“Thank you.”
A moment later, the black sedan arrives. Weselton motions for me to follow him outside, looking both ways as if he expects trouble. Once I’m in the back, he closes the door and slides in next to the driver. Neither talk to me. Heck, I’m not even sure they speak to each other. We arrive to the Met and Weselton is opening his door before the car comes to a complete stop. He hops out, opening my door.
