Another nod. “Yeah. Just… a, um, friend of mine’s coming to get me. I don’t want you to get freaked out.”
“Wait, is this the mysterious boyfriend? He’s coming? I get to finally meet him?”
Her mouth forms into a hard line. I was trying to be light and fun about it, but she’s being serious as it gets. “You might’ve met him before, actually. He’s?—”
She doesn’t finish. I watch as her gaze tracks a sleek, dark blue sports car as it pulls around the corner and comes to a stop. The door opens, and someone steps out.
Johan Morozov.
It all clicks into place.
“Wait,him?He’syour boyfriend?”
She doesn’t say anything, and I understand why she’s been so secretive about this. Johan is competition. Sure, there might be a merger, but as of right now, Angie is one of our top marketing analysts, and she’s dating the CEO of a company we’ve been butting heads with for the last year.
Not a good look.
I turn my attention back to Johan. He’s devilishly handsome—razor-cut jaw, slicked-back blonde hair, and eyes hidden behind designer shades. He’s clad in a sharp, tailored, slatesuit. Where Sasha is old-school class, Johan is new money, flashy and a little over the top.
He pulls off his shades, revealing sharp, bright blue eyes—another total contrast to Sasha’s gorgeous, obsidian ones. He moves toward the scene, a slight strut to his gait.
I don’t have all that much time to assess him before another car pulls up to the scene—one of Sasha’s black SUVs. The car parks and Sasha steps out. His gaze immediately locks onto the car I’m in. I open the door and he walks towards me, moving faster than I’ve ever seen him move before. I step out, and once he’s close, he pulls me into a tight hug.
God, it feels good.
He lets go, giving me a quick look up and down, checking me for any injuries himself. “Any pain? Dizziness?”
“None of that, doctor,” I say with a little smile. “But a healthy amount of pure, incandescent rage.”
I glance over my shoulder and notice that Angie and Johan seem to be arguing.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she says.
“You didn’t answer,” he replies. “I heard about the shooting and knew you were going to be here for lunch. What the hell was I supposed to do?” He doesn’t touch her. He reaches but refuses the impulse.
I realize what’s happening—Johan knows that touching her would make it clear they’re together. And Sasha wouldn’t like that one bit.
Sasha steps closer to the pair, and I follow. “Why is he here?” he asks.
“Because he’s—” Angie starts but doesn’t get a chance to finish.
“I’m here for Angela,” Johan says, cutting in. His eyes are on Sasha. Not hostile, not deferential. A simple statement of fact.
My stomach drops three inches. So much for avoiding confrontation.
“For Angela,” Sasha repeats.
Angie lifts her chin. Whatever fear she might’ve felt is long gone. “We’re together,” she says simply. “And we have been for a while.”
Her words are like a bomb going off. She flicks me a quick look of sympathy, like she’s sorry for not telling me, sorry for what she’s pulled me into, then turns back to Sasha with calm confidence on her face.
“We’ve kept it private,” she says.
“Private,” Sasha repeats. It doesn’t sound so nice and innocent when he says it. “You work at AngelCorp. He runs Dandelion.” He doesn’t bother to explain why this would bother him.
“And we keep everything separate,” she says. “No disclosures shared, no devices crossed. Totally on the level.”
Sasha narrows his eyes. “On the levelaside from keeping me in the dark about it.”
