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“Catherine!”

“There was touching!”

“Someone bumped into me.”

“Oh my God.”

“And I almost fell.”

“Did he catch you? Did you swoon?”

I close my eyes and shake my head.

“Can we please focus?”

“He caught you!”

“Yes. So what? He couldn’t just let me fall!”

“Where?”

“What do you mean, where?”

“Where did he put his hands?”

“I actually hate you.”

She starts laughing.

“Cat!”

“Fine. Fine. Professional editor mode engaged. Continue.”

I don't trust that for a second.

“He invited me somewhere quieter to talk.”

“And you went?”

“Of course I went. He's Mitchell Knight.”

“That is how women end up on true-crime documentaries.”

“He has more to lose by murdering me than I do by being murdered.”

“That's the dumbest intelligent-person thing you've ever said.”

“He took me to his house.”

Dead silence. Uh-oh.

“Cat?”

“His house?”

“Okay, more like his huge ass estate.”

“At two in the morning?”