Page 45 of The Devil of Downtown

“Okay, I’m on it right away, Mr. Black. Is there anything else?”

“Actually, there is. Can you step into my office, please?”

“Will I need to take notes?” Her eyes are wide and earnest as they study me.

“No, Sloane. This won’t take long.”

She follows me; her face still a mask of serenity.

I sit behind my desk, steepling my hands as I try to work out how the fuck I’m going to say this. As I sit here, pulse thudding in my ears, she merely scans the paperwork on my desk as if double-checking for errors.

Jesus Christ.

How have I somehow become the needy bitch in this scenario?

“About London, Sloane.”

Her head tilts slightly, confusion knitting her brow. “Did I miss something?”

I clear my throat. “I’m prepared to put it behind us—if that’s what you want.”

She looks at me blankly, like she has no idea what I’m referring to.

“I see,” she says, a slight wobble in her tone, the first flicker of anxiety she’s shown.

“I’m sorry,” she adds carefully. “I wasn’t myself in London. There was a lot going on, but if I disappointed you, I can assure you everything will be back to normal now.”

I stare at her, half-stunned, half-impressed.

“If there’s nothing else, Mr. Black,” she says, already halfway to the door, “I’ll get started on rearranging that meeting.”

“No,” I bite out. “That’s all.”

I watch her return to her desk, expecting some kind of reaction when she sits down, and she thinks my eyes are off her, but she dives straight back to her work, not even one furtive glance my way.

And for the first time in a long time, I have no idea what game I’m playing.

Because Iknowwhen someone’s faking indifference. There are always tells—small muscle shifts, flickers in the eyes, the micro-pauses between words. I’ve seen them all, in business and in bed.

But she’s giving me nothing.

I welcome the distraction when my phone rings, my sister’s name flashing on the screen.

“Charlotte, if this is about the engagement party, I’m ending the call now.”

“Well, hello to you too,” she says, mock outrage softening into laughter.

“Ugh, stop being a grump, Dane. Mitzy just wanted me to let you know if you’re bringing a date, could you tell them so they have a rough idea of numbers?”

“Since when has Mitzy been so interested in my dating life?”

To be fair, the way Mitzy throws me heated stares across a room explains the interest in my dating life. But I’m not unpackingthatwith my sister.

“Yes, I’ll bring the best divorce lawyer I know,” I deadpan. “Planning ahead seems wise.”

“Dane!” Her tone is scolding, but she can’t disguise the laugh breaking through.

“Okay, Charlotte,” I sigh. “If in the meantime, I find someone I hate enough to inflict my family drama on, I’ll be sure to let Mitzy know, happy?”