Respectable and unremarkable.
I pull it on and opt for my neutral beige ankle boots.
A quick glance in the mirror confirms the image.I look composed, serious.Maybe a little tired, but ready.There’s no flutter of nerves, no desire to impress.This isn’t about playing a part in James’s world tonight.
It’s about ending my role in it.
This is a business transaction.A dissolution of a partnership.
Tonight is pure, stark efficiency.
I scrape my hair back from my face, twisting it into a tight, severe knot at the nape of my neck.I secure it without looking up.No makeup today.Just a quick swipe of clear lip balm.
There’s no point.
I have only a steely resolve to see this through.
My thoughts flicker to Matthew.His meeting with Bancroft was this morning.
How did it go?
Worry twists, but I push it aside.
One fire at a time.
Tonight’s fire is mine to face.
Taking a final, fortifying breath, I grab my beige purse and walk out, pulling the door shut with quiet finality.
Toward The Sterling.
Toward James.
Toward our end.
NINETEEN
“WE HAVE YOUR usual table ready, Miss Beckett.”
The hostess’s crisp white shirt and tailored black skirt exude an air of effortless elegance.She glides through the dimly lit restaurant, heels clicking on the polished marble floor, creating a sharp rhythm against the clink of silverware and the murmur of conversations.I trail behind her, hands smoothing down my olive-green sweater dress.The thick heels of my suede ankle boots echo faintly in the spacious room.The scent of rich food, mingled with expensive perfumes, hangs heavy in the air.
“Will Mr.Devlin be joining you tonight?”she asks as we reach our usual table for two.
It’s a prime spot near the center, where James can survey the room and be seen by anyone entering.
“Yes.”My voice catches a little, despite my effort to sound confident.“He should be here shortly.”
“Wonderful.”Her smile is a practiced mask as she slides my chair back with a flourish.
The soft leather conforms to my back but does nothing to ease the rigid tension gripping my shoulders.
“I’ll send your server over,” she says, unfolding my napkin and placing it in my lap.
“Thank you.”
I inhale deeply, trying to steady my racing pulse.
I take in the familiar surroundings: the large sepia and black art pieces framed in gold, the imposing black walls, the golden medallion dominating the ceiling.The massive crystal chandelier shimmering beneath it no longer mesmerizes me.
