Case Notes
I guess this one I don’t have to sneak into.
He wantsme to go to an event. It takes me a day to form a reply, and I read it several times before sending it.
Good afternoon, Soren,
I apologize for the delay in responding; work has been busy.
I would be happy to accompany you to an event in exchange for your story.
Thank you again.
No longer your stalker thanks to your invite.
I’ve snuckinto several parties, and now he’s inviting me to one. There has to be some catch to this. He would never willingly take me to an event, especially knowing how hard I’ve been digging into him.
Less than two minutes after I sent the message to Soren, I receive a response. I power down my work laptop, grab my coat and bag, and head out.
Answer your phone.
Then my phone rings,the call coming from a private number. I get a lot of calls from private numbers, tips, and similar information for stories from people who wish to remain anonymous. Pressing accept, I hear his low and smoky voice echo through the phone, sending shivers racing all over my body when he says my name.
“Cressida Knight.”
“Soren Nixon.”
“Are you ready?” he asks.
“Ready?” I question, confused as I hail a cab in front of my office building. When one pulls up, I climb in and cover the mic, I rattle off my address before I turn my attention back to Soren. “Ready for what?”
“I’m standing outside your house. Are you ready?”
“A-Are you joking?” I stammer as the driver navigates through the traffic.
“Do you think I’m the type of man who jokes, Miss Knight?”
“Well, no, but who doesn’t give a woman notice before showing up at her door and expecting her to be ready to go somewhere when she didn’t even know the date and time?”
“I’m giving you notice right now as I stand here waiting for you.” Then he hangs up on me.
For fuck’s sake.
What an asshole!
Noting where we are, I realize we’re still more than ten minutes away from my house, and that’s if the traffic cooperates. My leg bounces anxiously as I stare out the window, watching the city blur past in streaks of light and motion, silently urging the driver to go faster. The hum of the engine and the flicker of passing traffic do nothing to calm the storm twisting in my stomach.
The traffic isn’t too bad, and when we reach my street, my pulse spikes. He’s there. Leaning against the building in his pristine suit, head bent toward his phone. When his gray eyes lift and lock on me as I push open the cab door, the rest of the world seems to fade away. His gaze rakes over me, slowly and deliberately, and I swear the air thickens between us.
I know I’m not dressed for whatever function he wants me to go to, but if he’s giving me no time to change into something more appropriate, he’s going to have to accept me as I am. Thankfully, Oliver is with Noah tonight, so I don’t have to explain the man waiting for me.
“Ready?” I ask, and I can feel my cheeks heat from the look he gives me.
“If you are,” he replies, and that’s when I notice his driver waiting for us.
Soren walks over to the car and holds the door open for me. I race to my house door, unlock it, put my laptop bag inside, then relock the door and run to the car, where he’s still waiting by the back door.
As I slide into the car, I feel his gaze locked on me. I’m dressed in black pants with a designer belt around my waist, and my shirt is baby blue. It’s tight-fitting. Definitely not an outfit towear to anything fancier than a work event, and this man looks like he’s going to a gala.
