“What are you doing?”
“Well, I’m not knocking and giving Olly a chance to hide his dirty work.” The handle twisted and she beamed triumphantly as she quietly pushed open the door.
Oh my goodness, we were going to prison.
We were so going to prison!
Legs trembling, I tiptoed in behind her as we entered an airy, modern hallway.
There was no sound from within.
Nothing.
Sierra placed a finger to her lips to ensure my silence before she tiptoed down the hall, glancing into doorways. The reception hall led into an open-plan living room and kitchen with lots of windows. It was empty.
There was only one closed door in the entire flat.
“I’m going to be sick,” I muttered as Sierra crept toward it.
She shot me a sharpshut uplook as she grasped the door handle.
Then she threw open the door, marching inside. “Aha!”
I followed her in and abruptly ran into her as she halted.
My eyes widened.
The room had been soundproofed with foam panels. It was small. A round table sat in the middle, recording equipment on it with two laptops open beside it.
And around the table were three guys with headsets. Mics hung on stands near their faces.
Olly gaped at Sierra from one seat.
A guy with light brown hair turned to us with an expression of moderate surprise.
My heart stuttered as I looked atPotterrowBlokenumber three.
And then it felt like it crashed into my stomach as nausea rose.
Sebastian Thorne stared back at me, wide-eyed and panicked.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SEBASTIAN
Present Day
“Do you really want to do this here?” Lily defensively crossed her arms over her chest. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I’m not sure I want our business aired publicly.”
“As opposed to the hundreds of thousands of people who listen to your podcast?” I teased, trying to ease the tension between us.
“You’re the one who kept your identity a secret.”
“For reasons.”
“That you’re happy to share here?”
I shrugged. “It’s not like what I’m about to tell you isn’t already in the public domain.”
