Page 88 of The Devil of Downtown

“Dr. Evil, I mean, when he’s supposed to be having fun. Since he’s usually terrorizing the workplace.”

Sloane’s eyes brighten instantly, like she has some juicy gossip.

“Oh my god. I think I worked out why he’s been in a good mood. His ex was there.”

My stomach plummets. “Ex?”

“Leandra, the model. Apparently, she is the only woman he ever dated for a semi-normal amount of time after...”She trails off respectfully.“...everything.”

A cold tightness coils in my chest.

“She came back from Paris,” Sloane says, dropping her voice, “for him, apparently. I guess it’s kind of romantic.”

“Oh.” My voice is sandpaper. “Were they... getting on?”

Sloane nods. “Yes. They were dancing together, and then she sat at his table with him and his siblings for the rest of the night. And when I was leaving—” she hesitates. “I saw them outside, standing pretty close.”

Her words drift away, the rest of the room going with them as something in me sinks.

Because what did I think I was? I knew better. He even told me. A stupid power play—his way of putting me back where he thinks I belong after I dared to walk into his world like I have the right.

I was convenient. Useful. That’s all.

Before I can gather my thoughts, my phone pings again.

dane

In case you forgot, I'm picking you up later. It's Vice nightclub, right?

I stare at the message.

Then at the ceiling.

Then back at the message.

“Everything okay, Ivy?” Sloane says, glancing at my phone while I push it out of sight.

“Of course,” I say, voice too bright. “Anyway, I should get ready. I have rehearsal soon.”

I sweep out of the room before Sloane can tell something is wrong, closing the bathroom door quietly behind me.

Stepping into the shower, I let the heat pour over me, trying to contain every stupid feeling clawing up my chest.

The pressure builds until I shut off the water harder than necessary.

I’m halfway through towel-drying my hair when my phone buzzes across the counter, and I can’t help glancing over.

dane

Call me when you get this.

A pulse of annoyance flickers. I set the phone facedown and continue getting ready.

The moment I sling my dance bag over my shoulder, the phone vibrates again. It sounds harder this time, like it’s impatient too.

dane

Just a reminder, I don't like waiting.