“This is Naughty Lane,” Ollie said. “Because of all the sugar.”
I snorted. “Is that it’s real name?”
“Official name is Amulet Road, but it’s been ‘naughty’ for decades.”
“Interesting. I’ll have to come down here one day. This whole area looks like great fun.”
“Maybe I’ll bring you.”
Here came a flood of euphoria paired with a pleasant shiver.
I’d love to go on a date with you.
Instead of spoutingthat, I responded with, “Candy is a big weakness of mine. I don’t eat it much because I’d devour one of those supposedshare bags by myself in one sitting.” I rolled my eyes.
He chuckled. “I know what you mean.”
“Seriously, eh? Share bag is a ridiculous thing to call them.”
He laughed louder, slowing down, approaching a building made of pale pink bricks.
What a lovely sound coming from his throat.
“Got any recommendations?” I asked.
“For what?”
“Candy.”
That word made me think of tomorrow’s meeting with the fashion house.
Ugh.
Ollie stopped at another set of traffic lights. “There are these chocolate truffles sold at Cocoa Wonders called Silky Milky. I swear to Hecate they’ll change your life.”
This side of him brought jolly warmth to my belly. “Now I really want chocolate.”
We arrived at the hotel carpark. I looked up at the building resembling a large townhouse crossed with a white pointed roof, soft pink light glowing in the windows.
Curved around the building were immaculate gardens with an array of outdoor seating undercover with heaters and occupied by guests. But one of the garden spaces was filled with Hecate Crystals.
Oh, shit. What if the fae hag attacked? There must have been a hundred of them clustered togetherin there, just waiting for the cackling fucker to manipulate.
I rolled my shoulders, taking a deep breath. My brain overloaded, shifting into a state of hyper alertness.
Ollie pulled up outside the main entrance’s drop off area, protected by a pink-and-white awning. One of the doormen came and opened the door for me, decked out in gray top hat and tails and a pink tie.
“Good evening, sir,” he greeted me.
Did everyone who rocked up here get the rockstar treatment?
He closed the door for me, then Ollie drove off to park. He refused a valet because we might need a quick getaway and couldn’t be waiting around for the keys.
“We’ve been expecting you,” he added. “Your party is waiting in the restaurant.”
A couple of guests mulling around the entrance recognizing me.
Here we go…
