As he thought about the signing tonight, Julianne spoke to him from the bed: “Read something about Emily. Something about the girl. Do that and I won’t bother you anymore. Do that and I’ll leave you alone.”

He didn’t want to hear anything more from Julianne, didn’t want to have her arguing with him, especially after he was away from the house and was in public, so he slipped out of the bedroom, left his novel on the table, grabbed his journal with the handwritten draft of what he was working on with Emily, and then hurried outside to catch the train that would take him into the heart of the city.

++++

Sasha MacIntyre climbed into the executive car.

She had on a body-hugging dress and wore a thigh holster with a 9mm Ruger LC9s. The options for a concealed carry with this outfit were limited, but that was alright. She preferred the thigh holster anyway because, even if she was patted down, most men who frisk women don’t tuck their hands on the inside of her thighs when they check for a weapon. It’s just too intimate of a gesture.

And that worked to her advantage.

She had a small tracking chip inside the heel of her left shoe.

Blake wasn’t waiting for her in the backseat of the car, but one of his men was. She’d been hoping that maybe it would be Mannie, but instead, it was one of the goons who’d brought Aaron Jasper to Blake yesterday, right before he shot him in the forehead.

“I’ll need your phone,” the man said to her.

“My phone?”

“Rules are rules.”

Somewhat hesitantly, she passed it to him. In return, he held out a sweating bottle of water.

“Thirsty?” he said.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Blake wanted to make sure you were taken care of. Have some water. It’s good to stay hydrated. Right?”

She considered her options.

The tracking device would be enough for Greer to follow if by some chance the water was drugged and she went unconscious or Greer lost the car in traffic. So, she reassured herself that this time, at least, she would not be venturing into Blake’s snake pit alone.

She accepted the water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and took a drink.

50

Christie turned sideways and looked at her profile in the mirror. “Well?” she asked her daughter.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“He’s not gonna be able to take his eyes off you.”

For tonight, Christie had chosen the most elegant evening gown that she owned. Silky and the color of midnight.

“You don’t think it’s too much?”

“With that slash in the side of it, I don’t think you have to worry about the dress being too much.”

“I’m just wondering if—”