The man nodded. “Thanks.”
Ayana gave me a brief smile in passing. With her luminous dark skin and high cheekbones, the supermodel looked even more ethereal in person, but I felt a grand total of nothing. Not even a flicker of lust or attraction.
Sloane and I had kissed once, and she’d already ruined me for other women.
I should be more alarmed at this development, but I found it hard to summon anything other than a smile when I saw her pacing the library. I’d signed Sloane in before my meeting with Vuk, and while I didn’t need moral support, I loved having her there.
“What did he say?” she asked when I came within earshot. “Or write. You know what I mean.”
“He said to come back to him when I’ve secured a location.” “Name number two?”
“Name number two,” I confirmed. “Shit.”
My sentiments exactly. I had a meeting with the second name on Kai’s list this Friday, and I wasn’t looking forward to it.
“On the bright side, it wasn’t a no. I’ll get it done,” I said. “How are things going with PW?”
Sloane had filled me in on her plans to take down Perry Wilson. No arguments from me there; the gossip blogger was a massive pain in my ass.
“They’re going,” she said. “My friends planted the seeds. I’ll take care of the rest. I was actually doing a little research for that before you came in.”
“Perfect. In that case, it’s been a productive day, and we can go to dinner.” I needed to reset after my meeting with Vuk, and food always made me feel better.
Sloane’s mouth twitched. “Your sense of meal times needs recalibration. It’s only four.”
“By the time we fight through rush hour traffic, it’ll be five, which is happy hour time. You know what comes after happy hour?”
“A shower.”
“Dinner.” My mouth curled into a grin. “Though I’m not opposed to sharing a shower.” I pitched my voice low enough for just her to hear.
She went a teensy bit pink around her ears, but she cocked an eyebrow and asked, “What happened to slow and steady wooing?” “Get your mind out of the gutter, Luna. All I proposed was sharing a shower. It’ll be perfectly PG-13 except for the two very attractive naked people in it.”
Sloane’s burst of laughter attracted several disapproving stares before she covered her mouth.
My grin widened. If someone had asked me a year ago what my favorite thing in the world was, it would’ve been a cold drink on a hot beach. Now, it was making Sloane laugh. Seeing her lower her guard and actually be herself never got old.
“I’m sorry to disappoint, but there’ll be no shared showers today or anytime in the near future,” she said after she wrestled her amusement under control. “That—”
Her phone lit with an incoming call, and a quick glance at the screen wiped the smile from her face.
Sloane picked up, her skin going pale as she listened to whatever the caller had to say. A minute later, she hung up and grabbed her coat from the back of her chair. “I have to go.”
Shimmers of concern threaded through my gut. “What happened?”
I followed her to the exit, and she didn’t answer until we were in the hall, away from any prying ears.
“It’s my sister.” She finally looked at me, her eyes a storm of panic. “She’s in the hospital.”
CHAPTER 23
Sloane
I didn’t argue when Xavier insisted on accompanying me to the hospital. He’d driven to the club today, and it was easier taking his car than hailing a cab.
Rhea’s stressed voice echoed in my head as we sped toward the hospital.
My day off…Penny collapsed on the street…hospitalized…
She hadn’t had time to fill me in on the details before a nurse called for her in the background. The lack of context sent my stomach into upheaval and my imagination spiraling down thorny paths.
How badly was Pen hurt? Was this a broken limb or something worse? Would they have to operate on her?
Dread clawed at my insides.
I should’ve checked in on her earlier. It’d been a month since London, and Rhea gave me the occasional text update, but I should’ve found time to sneak in a video call. Instead, I’d been buried in work and Xavier.
Logic told me Rhea would’ve been more distraught if Pen were in serious danger, but logic always cracked in the face of frigid, debilitating fear.
Thankfully, Xavier didn’t ask questions or make conversation. He simply gunned through the streets, navigating jaywalkers and traffic with surprising dexterity...until we hit the gridlocked mess that was Midtown Manhattan during rush hour.
The lights were green, but traffic was so backed up, no one could move.
“What happened?” I straightened, trying to make sense of the snarl of cars, pedestrians, and bicyclists weaving through the intersection.
“Looks like an accident.” Xavier opened the driver-side, leaned out, and did a quick survey of our surroundings. “We’re backed up for blocks.”
