For a second, I thought I might faint. I had no idea what was happening but Miguel had clearly backed me—probably because I had landed a huge project with an incredible amount of exposure for the studio—and judging by the pinched look on Carson’s face, he didn’t like it one little bit.

I opened the door to my office and gestured for Soph and Lexi to go ahead inside. I turned to follow them, and Miguel called after me, “Nice work, Annabelle.”

“Thanks.” I flashed him a huge grin. When I turned around, my first thought was that I could not wait to go home and hug the stuffing out of Nick Daire for giving me my best working day to date.

The meeting went well. Lexi outlined what her needs were, from the naming of the housing development to all of the subsequent materials, including the invitations to the gala, which was happening in six weeks. Soph looked mildly panicked at the tight turnaround on that, but I promised that it could be done. I remembered Booker saying that Carson overpromised and underdelivered. I did not want to get slapped with that label, too. I didn’t care what I had to do; we were going to be ready for the gala.

By the time Lexi headed back to work and Soph left my office with the newly inked working agreements in hand, my coffee was cold and the late night was catching up to me, making me yawn and try to figure out where I could wedge a catnap into my day.

It was after lunch before I remembered the note that had been taped to my front door. I grabbed my shoulder bag out of the desk drawer where I kept it and found the envelope.

It occurred to me, in a flash of panic, that this could be something bad.

I’d assumed that it was a love note, well, probably not a love note this soon in the game, but a “thanks for the awesome night” note wouldn’t have been out of order. I had been sure Nick would have penned something sweet or sexy about our night last night, but maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe now that we’d slept together, he wanted me gone from the premises. Perhaps in hindsight, he was freaked out that he’d slept with his tenant. Uh-oh.

My fingers shook when I opened the note, which was ridiculous. A single sheet of paper fell onto the top of my desk. I picked it up and slowly unfolded it.

Scrawled in Nick’s bold hand were the words: My place? Seven.