“Girl, please.” I blow out a breath. “You have no idea. Tell Finn…well, tell him to bring at least his fists, but if he’s got a weapon, that probably wouldn’t be bad either.”
“Jesus, Julia!”
“I’ve gotta go! I’ll meet you there!”
“Fine. I’ll tell Finn to call Blake too.”
“Perfect. Bye.”
I hang up before she can say anything else, and I don’t know if she was intending to or not. But I’ve got to call Ace, and I’ve got to call him quick. I need some kind of clue as to what we’re walking into. I need to know if I need to call the cops.
I need to know if I need to call my dad.
I need to know if I need to alert the mayor or call in a favor to the National Guard.
I dial the number and put the phone to my ear, and he answers in two rings, his voice hurried.
“Hello? Jules?”
“I’m on my way. Finn and Scottie are on their way, and they’re trying to call Blake too. What’s going on, Ace? How bad is it?”
“It’s bad, Jules. I think I’m going to have to call the cops.”
“Oh God.” As bad as that sounds, it could sound worse. Police are local. When we up the ante to federal agencies, like the FBI, I’ll let myself panic. “Just do your best to contain the situation until I get there with backup. And whatever you do, donottake off your clothes.”
“What? Why would I take off my clothes?”
“I don’t know! You’re the one with the information, but I keep picturing some very rough strip searching!”
“Noted. And…honestly, probably pragmatic, knowing Gunnar. I’ll keep my clothes on. At least until you get here.”
“Getting in a cab now!” I yell. “Bye!”
I hang up and put my hand in the air for a cab, but Drew steps out in the street in front of me, putting his fingers to his lips and whistling so loud his car pulls away from the curb down the block and floors it toward us immediately.
“Drew. What are you doing?”
“Coming with you.”
“I said you didn’t have to. I don’t—”
“Jules, there’s no way I was sending you out of here to rush to some emergency on your own. I just stayed back to pay the bill.”
“Drew—”
“Don’t worry about it, babe.” He opens the door for me and holds out a hand. “Come on, get in.”
I climb in the car and slide across the seat, and Drew gets in behind me. “Where are we headed?” the driver asks, and Drew turns to look at me.
Ready or not, I guess Drew’s getting thrown into the deep end of the Kelly pool.
I sure hope he can swim.
“520 Park Avenue. And hurry.”
“520 Park Ave?” Drew asks. “Isn’t that on Billionaires’ Row?”
“Yep.” I nod.
