He only spares Nix a glance from over my shoulder before looking back at me. “The gala was one thing, but this . . . I have a bad feeling. You can’t tell me you don’t.”
“Miles! Either you trust me, or you don’t.” I don’t bother telling him that I have the same feeling, but I cannot pass up this opportunity. I have to go, and he knows it. They both do.
“Of course I trust you.” He puts his hands on his hips.
“Good,” I say, clapping my hands together before he can say anything else. I step aside so that Nix is more part of this conversation instead of the man who needs to protect me from the other. I swivel my gaze between the two. “So what’s the plan?”
“I want to add some undercovers,” Miles says defeatedly.
“No,” Nix answers in a deep tone.
“Why not?” It’s the first time Miles has spoken to him, and it’s full of exasperation.
“It’s invite-only,” I say with a huff. “No invitation, no entry, and if you tried, it would tip our hand.”
“There has to be other ways to draw out your boss,” he says to Nix in a pleading manner.
“I’m sure there is,” Nix begins, “And I don’t like this any more than you, but Charlie is the key. If we want him to come out of hiding, she’s how we do it.”
Miles looks at him with side-eye. “You really work for the Department of Treasury?”
“Call them and find out,” Nix says with a narrowed gaze.
“I’ll have to do that,” Miles grumbles before looking back at me. “And you’re sure he’s not setting a trap for you?”
I throw my hands in the air. “Miles!”
He holds up his palms. “Okay, okay.” His sigh is loud. “I want to track your phone.”
I scowl. “You already do.”
“He’s not talking about the one he gave you,” Nix murmurs.
“Oh,” my scowl deepens as the two of them have a wordless conversation, staring back at one another. “You two are talking about the phone the business gave me?”
“Can it be done?” Miles asks him, ignoring me.
“I can make it happen.”
“What about a microphone?”
My head ping pongs back and forth as they carry on a conversation without me, both wanting nothing more than to keep me safe.
He shakes his head. “They’ll find it.”
“Camera in the glasses?”
He shakes his head again.
Miles clenches his fists at his sides, flexing and unflexing them. “This is such a bad idea.”
“I’ll keep her safe,” Nix murmurs. “She won’t leave my side.”
“Will you have any protection on you?”
Again, he shakes his head. “It’s not allowed.”
Of course it isn’t. The party will be full of the darkest of the dark kind of people I’d ever meet, but weapons aren’t allowed so no one kills who they aren’t supposed to. Of course. “Gotta keep the billionaires safe,” I grumble.
