“Did you see the painting down at the end of the hall?”

“No, why?”

“Would you mind taking a picture of it and asking her if she knows who the artist is?”

“Why don’t you just ask Kravitz?”

“He doesn’t remember.”

“Oh…yeah, sure.”

I listened as footsteps moved away from the door. When they stopped, Donovan said, “This is the one. I guess it’s probably for the best your wife didn’t come, seeing as it’s hot as hell out there today.”

Oh God. That was my cue. I thought I might throw up, but I cracked open the door enough to peer down the hall. The partner’s back was to me while he faced the painting and fidgeted with his phone. Donovan leaned back and glanced in my direction before motioning with his hand for me to leave. So I took a deep breath, hitched my purse up on my shoulder as I slipped out the door, and darted for the stairs as quietly as I could.

I had no idea if anyone saw me, because I didn’t stop to look back. Blood rushed through my veins as I sprinted down to the main level. It wasn’t until my feet left the very last step that I even noticed I’d been holding my breath. And apparently, I also wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, because I ran right into a solid chest.

“Whoa. Where’s the fire?” Blake smiled. But he took one look at my face and his upturned lips wilted. “Are you okay?”

My hands were shaking. The tips of my fingers felt numb, and I couldn’t even try to hide that I had no blood left in my face. A sheath of sweat also broke out across my forehead.

When I didn’t answer right away, Blake put his hands on my shoulders. “Are you sick?”

Oh, thank God. I needed someone to give me a solid lie. I nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I’m not sure if I’m coming down with something or maybe I ate something that didn’t agree with me, but I just got sick.”

“I was wondering what was taking you so long in the bathroom. Do you want me to get you anything? Some soda or a water or something?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I think I’m just going to call an Uber and go home.”

“An Uber? Don’t be silly. I’ll drive you.”

“No. It’s your work party, and we haven’t been here very long. You should stay. I don’t want to ruin your afternoon.”

Blake smiled warmly. “You aren’t ruining anything. I hate these things, anyway. I put in some face time. That’s all I needed to do.”

I really, really just wanted to slink out the door, jump into an Uber, and hightail it back to the city, but I also didn’t want to raise any suspicions. So I nodded, though the thought of spending two hours driving back from the Hamptons in a car with Blake after what had just happened in the bathroom made me feel like I might break out in hives.

Blake leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “There’s a library right down that hall—last door on your left. Why don’t you go sit down in there. I’ll do a quick round of goodbyes, and we’ll get out of here.”

I needed to get my head screwed on straight, so I thanked him and walked down the hall. Ten minutes later, Blake came into the library.

“Sorry that took so long,” he said. “You ready to go?”

I stood and attempted one last-ditch effort. “It’s really no trouble to take an Uber. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay than spend two hours in the car with someone who doesn’t feel well?”

Blake wrapped his arms around me and brought me to his chest. “Two hours with a sick you is better than an afternoon with all these clowns, anyway.” He kissed the top of my head.

God, why did he have to be so damn nice? As if I didn’t already feel like shit.

“Come on.” He released me and gestured toward the door. “Let’s get you out of here.”

I thought we’d gotten out of the party unscathed until Blake opened the front door for me. Donovan was standing outside on the porch by himself.

He looked at me, then Blake, then me again, without saying a word.

“What are you doing out here, Decker?” Blake pulled the door closed behind him. “You’re not trying to escape the party, are you?”

Donovan’s face remained impassive. “Nope. Just needed some fresh air.”

“Are you feeling sick? Autumn thinks something she ate might not have agreed with her. I hope the whole place doesn’t come down with food poisoning.”

Donovan looked straight at me. “Pretty sure it’s not food poisoning.”

“Good. Alright then, enjoy the party.” Completely oblivious, Blake put his hand on my back. “And Decker, this is a good opportunity for you today. So don’t do something stupid and screw it up.”

I shut my eyes. God, where was that advice half an hour ago? I felt Donovan’s eyes on me, but I didn’t want to make matters worse, so I kept my head down when I said goodbye and walked to the car, slumped in a walk of shame.

The ride home was long, and I spent it lost in my head. I answered when Blake asked me a direct question, but otherwise I didn’t talk much. Thankfully, both the physical symptoms I’d displayed and the mental distance could be blamed on not feeling well. When we pulled up to my apartment, Blake started to look for a place to park, but I really needed to be alone.

“I’m so sorry I caused you to leave the party early, but if you don’t mind, I’m not really up for company right now.”

“Oh. Yeah, of course. I get it. I like to be left alone when I don’t feel well, too.”

I forced a smile. “Thanks.”

“I’ll park and walk you to the door.”

I shook my head. “It’s fine. You don’t need to walk me.”

“You sure?”

I nodded.

“At least let me double park and open your door.”

“Okay.”

Blake walked around to my side and opened the passenger door. Extending a hand, he helped me from the car and kept my hand in his. “I’ll text you later to see how you’re feeling.”

I was pretty sure I’d still be feeling the same—like a giant piece of shit. Yet I smiled again. “Thank you.”

He leaned in for a kiss, and a wave of panic washed over me. Without thinking, I put my hand on his chest and stopped him. Blake’s face wrinkled.

“I…I don’t want to get you sick.”

He smiled. “I’ll risk it.”

I covered my mouth. “No…really.”

Blake gave me a conciliatory smile and lifted my hand to his mouth, brushing his lips over my knuckles. “Feel better. I’ll see you soon.”

CHAPTER 17

* * *

Donovan

I’m not going to call. The ball is in her court here. If she wants to keep seeing that assface, that’s fine with me. Nothing I can do about it.

I sucked back my third vodka tonic since I’d walked in the door not even an hour ago, grabbed the spray bottle off the kitchen counter, and proceeded to angry-water my plants as I ranted.

“It’s bullshit. There’s no fucking way she feels the same with Dickson.”