And they’ve certainly never been on a date. At least not a scheduled one.
I pull my phone out and type the name in. She pops up almost immediately.
And my stomach drops.
Tall, skinny, blonde. She looks like a model. She also looks like she hates her life. I run it through my head a hundred times. Maybe it’s a family thing. Maybe they’re just friends.
But he specifically saiddate.
Ransome made a point of telling me he’s going on a date. And after telling ME that I shouldn’t be going on dates, no less.
Where does he get off telling me what to do when he is out there?—?
“Wait.”
It suddenly hits me.
“He’s trying to make me jealous.”
It’s so obvious. Telling me I shouldn’t be going on dates only to turn around and plan one with someone else AND make sure I know about it?
Ransome Rozanov wantsmeto be jealous, too.
He doesn’t say anything to me when he leaves early. Doesn’t look in my direction, either, as he sweeps past and storms out. Everyone else in the office heaves an exhale of relief when he’s gone.
But I have something else making me anxious.
The burner phone in his office.I bite my lip wondering if he still has it. If he knows that I can track him. I pace the floor, my finger hovering over the button that will give me those answers.
This is dumb. He probably doesn’t even have it on him. Maybe it’s not even his. Or?—
My thumb touches the button and I look down.
It’s active.
And it’s on the move.
“Shit,” I whisper, watching as the location moves through the city. I look at the location on my phone. Then my car keys. Then I make up my mind, grab my things, and hurry home to change.
Two can play this game.
I know how this must look.
Me, dressing up in my nicest, sexiest black dress, red lipstick and smokey eye, hair curled over one eye so my face isn’t visible from certain angles, driving across the city to spy on my boss while he’s on a date with some rich bimbo.
But here’s the thing: Ransome basically threatened me not to go out on dates. As if being my boss at work makes him the boss of my personal life, too.
Well, I have news for him: If he can crash my date, I can crash his.
I pull up to the building and for a moment, I wonder if the address is right. It’s a brick warehouse and from the looks of it, it’s abandoned. Across the street are a few restaurants, a bar that is literally called BAR, and a laundromat. Doesn’t exactly screamRansome Rozanov.
I get out and inspect the building, but just when I’m about to give up hope, I spy a stairwell leading to a below-the-street entrance.
Bingo.
I make my way down the stairs and find the large, black door unlocked. Inside is a dark blue hallway lined with small lights leading to another door. I stop at the inner entrance, take a deep breath, then reach for the knob.
But it’s locked.
