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Mara jumps to attention.
“Sure.”
I back away. “I’ll leave you to it.”
I head back up to my desk and text the guys. ‘Bait, taken.’
I can only hope it works.
I spendthe rest of the day trying to finish up my regular work duties, my pulse steadily rising to a fever pitch. By the time I’m ready to leave, I can’t sit still. My heart rate is spiking.
Can my plan really work?
I can only hope it does.
I take the subway to the apartment we’re using. As I walk past the shoppers and tourists, I try to scan for Logan, who is supposed to be staked out across the street, with a cop buddy. But the street is so choked with cars and people, it’s impossible to tell.
Caleb trusts Logan, though. So I do, too.
The building is a swanky apartment complex with a doorman, just like his place in the Upper East Side. The company owns it, to put up visiting business partners, or designers. We needed somewhere Olivia would feel safe entering, where she could easily get details of the security code—or even a key.
The doorman waves me in, and I go up to the apartment.
When I twist the key and go inside, I turn on the lights and look around. Spacious and roomy with high ceilings, it’s just as luxurious as his penthouse uptown, but a little impersonal. Like a hotel room, but with all sleek, modern furniture in various shades of gray.
I shiver. Now there’s nothing to do but wait.
I put on the TV and try not to go crazy wondering what Olivia’s planning now.
I’ve got snacks, but I should have brought a bottle of wine. I could use something to calm my nerves.
Too nervous to get comfortable, I go to one of the stiff gray sofas and sit on the very edge of the cushion. I take out my phone and check for messages.
Nothing.
I put the phone on the glass coffee table and rub my hands together, wondering if Olivia will come.
She has to come.
And when she does… Who knows what will happen, then? She’s tried to kill me before, so anything’s possible.
I shiver even more at the thought.
Am I in over my head? Was this whole plan a mistake?
Peeling off my jacket, I go to the window and stare out at the city. The lights of adjacent buildings are blinking on. The spires and façade of St. Patrick’s Cathedral are aglow. Shoppers scramble below. I try to spot Logan among them. Every time I see a blonde head, my heartrate quickens.
Then my phone buzzes, loud and echoing in the empty space, making me jump almost to the ten-foot-high ceiling.
I hurry over to the coffee table to pick up my phone and see a text from Logan. Just checking in. We’re in place. Let me know if you need anything.
I let out a sigh of relief. Ok so far, I type in.
Suddenly, someone knocks on the door. Two quick raps.
I startle, clutching my phone to my heart.
I freeze, not knowing what to do.
I stare at the door. In the crack beneath it, I can see the shadow of someone hovering there, on the carpet, just outside.
I take a step closer, until I’m close enough to touch it. The knocking comes again. Then: “Jules? Are you there?”
That voice sounds familiar.
I take a deep breath, and prepare to face the person on the other side. But when I open the door…
It’s Mara.
