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“That’s what I’m wondering, is why the fuck she didn’t tell you.”
I swallowed, hard, and I snatched my phone off the desk, calling María. She didn’t pick up, and I called again, and she picked up on the second ring.
“Dios mio, London, is someone dying?” she said.
“The headline?”
It was all I had to say. María sighed. “I thought if I led with that, you’d say no.”
“Jesus Christ, María. When were you planning on telling me?”
“Tomorrow morning. I’ve been working on a script for your presentation, and I’m trying to schedule us some time to practice, you and me. I know you don’t like having information like that and nothing to do with it immediately, so…”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “This isn’t like you, María. You’re not normally slippery.” And admittedly, the smug look Miguel was giving me didn’t help my mood.
“This whole situation isn’t normal. Just relax, okay? I don’t want you to panic. Just because it’s the headline act doesn’t mean you need to fret about it. It’ll go well if you relax and handle it normally.”
“Right.” I raked my hand over my face, letting out a sigh through my teeth. “Right. Of course. All right. I’m getting a little annoyed, but I know taking that out on you isn’t going to help anything, so I’m hanging up now.”
“London, wait,” she said, catching me before I hung up. “I’m sorry. And thank you. You have to understand, I’m… well, we’re desperate right now. Doing things we wouldn’t otherwise.”
“Yeah.” An undercurrent of guilt upset the sting of irritation, but I didn’t want to acknowledge either. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m going to fume in silence here instead of marching into your office to yell at you.”
“Gracias. You’re our star, London. Take care of yourself, that you don’t fizzle out.”
I hung up, going back to Miguel with a heavy sigh, a hand in my hair. “You win, Miguel. Yeah, it’s weird. But I guess María has faith in me.”
He grimaced. “Not to question María’s favorite, but really? Both Cameron Mercier and this conference?”
“Desperate times and all that. Is there anything else I can do for you, Miguel?”
He sighed. “Just… make sure you handle the thing with your apartment. I know we’ve never gotten along, but I still don’t want to see you kicked out of your home. Queen Pearl will be screwed without you.”
“Mm-hm. You never said if it’s allowed or not to go behind María’s back to be on their advisory board.”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Just make sure you do something about it. After all,” he said with a sour look, turning back to the door, “we can’t have anything happen to our little star, can we?”
As if he was one to talk about María doting on me. I didn’t give him the dignity of an answer, watching him leave, and I turned with a heavy sigh back to the window.
The pigeon smear was still there.
This city was so alive, but at the same time, it was so brutal. Poor Earl of Westlake didn’t deserve to get kicked out with me.
I was going to close Cameron and handle this damn conference. I’d missed my opportunity earlier today, but I wouldn’t next time.
When I turned back, there was a text on my phone, and my heart lurched at the number—Cameron’s.
Amelie is going to LIV tonight. She hopes you’ll join her?
Chapter 11
Of course I didn’t go. There was no point tempting myself further down this road, when all I really needed was to reestablish my professionalism, keep the boundaries clear, and close Cameron on the sale.
At least, that’s what I would have liked to be able to say. But somehow, I found myself stepping in through the doors at Club LIV, my heart pounding but trying to look cool as I pushed through the crowd, scanning for her.
The music rattled my teeth in my ears, a thumpy synth EDM hit, and the crowds—they weren’t as bad as the Sunday party, but they still squeezed in around me as I headed for the dance floor and made my way to the bar on the side. As luck would have it, they had the same bartender there as before, and he gave me a nod.
“Cosmo?”
