Page 7

“I am well aware she is the perfect woman, which is why I’m trying to find her,” I ground out, impatient. “Give me the clue, Mia. Now.”

Jake chuckles in the background. “She sounds feral, baby. Better give it to her before she fires us from the family.”

“Fine, fine,” Mia sighs, a rustling of paper echoing over the line. “Grab a pen. You’re going to need to write this down.”

I snatch a black pen from my desk organizer and grab a sticky note, leaning over the surface. “I’m ready.”

Mia clears her throat, her voice taking on a theatrical, storytelling cadence.

The woods are dark and deep, Little Red, and the path is full of distractions. But to find where the Big Bad Wolf lies in wait, you must seek the hollow where you first strayed.

My pen stills on the paper.

“Did you get all that?” Mia asks, her smugness returning.

“Dark woods… hollow…” I mutter, staring at my hurried handwriting. “Strayed!?”

“Good luck, big sis’!” Mia singsongs and the line goes dead.

I stare at the yellow sticky note, my brow furrowing in genuine confusion as my brain hits a temporary brick wall. Where did I first stray? I trace the words with the cap of my pen.

The Halloween party venue is the obvious answer, but it doesn’t fit. I didn’t stray there as much as Jo did. Could it be Jo’s old apartment and the stage of our first night together? Highly unlikely. We moved in together months ago, and she sublet her old spot to a grad student. Breaking and entering doesn’t scream romantic anniversary.

Here? This office is the room where I broke my own rules and openly admitted my interest in her. But I’m standing right here. Unless Jo has suddenly developed the ability to turn invisible or is crammed inside my filing cabinet, the wolf is clearly not in this hollow.

Which leaves one place.

I close my eyes, remembering the night my walls started to crack. The atmospheric cityscape I shared on Instagram, with a caption that had been a direct admission to myself: the dark isn’t so scary after all.

A disbelieving laugh punches out of my chest. She made me solve a puzzle, dress up, and drive all the way downtown to an empty corporate building… only to send me right back to the apartment I left?

The path is full of distractions, I read aloud, shaking my head. Ridiculous. Clearly, she wanted me worked up, anticipating, driving myself crazy with the chase before bringing me back to our sanctuary. Makes sense. She needed me out of the apartment to set up whatever spectacular trap she’s currently building.

“Alright, you beautiful terror,” I say, grabbing my keys and spinning on my heel. “You want me to come home? I’m coming home. You better be there.”

Chapter Five

I ease the front door open, bracing myself for the grand reveal. Given the sheer effort required to send me from our bed to the office, and back again, I expect the apartment to be transformed: crushed rose petals, ambient candlelight, a playlist humming through the speakers. Perhaps even the wolf herself, waiting to congratulate me on my investigative prowess. Knowing Jo, there might even be champagne chilling somewhere, accompanied by a smug speech about how she knew I’d find my way home.

But the door swings inward, revealing… exactly what I left behind two hours ago.

No. No-no-no.

I stand motionless in the entryway. Did I miscalculate? Did my arrogance blind me to a glaring logical fallacy in Jo’s clue? Was the “hollow” a reference to the Halloween party venue after all? I was so certain it was here. For the first time all morning, I feel a genuine flicker of panic.

Is there a clue taped under the sink in that specific bathroom? God, what if she actually booked a suite there?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I press my back against the closed front door, my mind building a crisis-mitigation matrix. I put on leather and drove like a maniac across the city, only to end up standing here like an idiot. If I got this wrong, Jo is sitting alone at some romantic spot, watching the clock tick and trying to decide whether to text me. Or she won’t, and I will have ruined the only thing she asked of me today, which was to show up.

“Josephine,” I call out.

The apartment offers no response.

My hand moves toward my phone to call Mia and demand clarification, but as I turn my head, I catch a flash of neon yellow out of the corner of my eye. A note is stuck dead center on the entryway mirror. Relief floods my veins so fast my knees go weak. She is here. The game isn’t over.

I step closer, my reflection shifting as I read Jo’s familiar script.