Page 77

“You’ll find out.”

“No.”

I pause.

“No?”

“I just signed a thirty-day agreement to live with you, not a kidnapping waiver. You don't get to shove me onto a private jet without telling me where we're going.”

I consider that.

“Fair.”

She waits.

I let her.

Her foot starts tapping.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Mitchell, where are we going?”

There it is again. My first name in her mouth. It hits harder than it should.

Far too much.

“New York.”

“Why?”

“I have meetings.”

“What kind of meetings?”

“The business kind.”

“Who with?”

“You’ll see.”

Her eyes narrow.

“How long?”

“Two nights.”

“Where are we staying?”

“My apartment.”

She stares at me.

“Of course you have an apartment in New York.”