“Of course, Kate,” he says easily. “You’re pretty great. I’d be a fool to give up being hopeful for a second chance with you.”
He’s trying to breeze past the subject, but I am nothing but a handkerchief snagged on a tree limb. It’s the strange look in his eye that is pinning me in place.
“Hopefullyyours?” I whisper.
Realization must be written across my wide eyes, must be screaming from the tremble in my fingertips. It’s clawing across the breath trapped on my tongue.
Tanner watches me, expressionless for a long moment.
Then he sighs like he knows the jig is up, takes an easy step around me in the elevator, and lightly presses a thumb to the emergency stop button.
BRANDON
Tuck’s and my argument ends as he storms off toward The Spiral. I head to the service elevator and jab the button. The event is probably over by now, and I feel like a jerk that I’m not already down there helping Rick and Val with the takedown.
The elevator button lights, but there’s no telltale whirring behind the shiny doors. I rap the elevator button a few more times, and still nothing.
Shrugging, I give up and stroll down the shimmering ramp of The Spiral.
I spot Tuck striding across the lobby toward the exit, passing Julia finishing packing up her table. She calls after him, but he continues his path out the museum doors. Julia hesitates, then snatches her coat and purse and chases after him.
I return to the Astor wing and immediately spot Val and Rick arguing with someone who looks like a handyman in a blue industrial jumpsuit. The man gestures with annoyed bursts, turning to one of the security guards.
I approach them. “What’s going on?”
Rick grumbles, “The elevator’s jammed, and we can’t get the carts for takedown. I’m too old to shove those suckers up The Spiral.”
Val’s nostrils flare in agreement.
“Oh, yeah,” I say. “I tried using it up on the third floor, and it wouldn’t work.”
I glance across the emptying Astor wing to where I’m sure Kate is waiting on the loveseat, but she’s gone.
Frowning, I stride over to her abandoned heels and clutch. Confusion builds in my gut, and I search the hall again. Amantha stands nearby briefing Kendra, and I interrupt.
“You guys seen Kate?”
Amantha shakes her head. “No, she was looking for you, though. Everything okay?”
“Not sure.” Something snakes up my spine as I stride in a new direction. I yank my phone from my pocket and call her.
The phone rings to voicemail, a faint jingle vibrating from the loveseat as I approach. Worry spikes my chest, and I scoop up her tinybag. It’s not like Kate to ditch her phone—she’s practically married to the device.
I rifle through the bag, brushing past her trademark pepper spray and makeup stuff until I touch the edge of her house key. One she’ll definitely need later.
I pin the purse and heels under my arm, grappling again for my phone. Maybe she texted me earlier and I didn’t see it?
Clicking open our text thread, I find a slew of messages I don’t recognize.
Ones that I definitely didn’t send.
A proclamation of love returned.
A proposal that turns my blood to ice.
BRANDON: Then will you finally come to Navy Pier with me tomorrow at sunset? - Hopefully Yours.
An expletive bursts from my mouth.
