Page 83 of The Roommate Subtext

Maggie nodded, determination in her eyes. “We’ll figure it out. Cora needs some new funding for her lab, but that’s a problem for another day.”

He perked up. “I’m a grant writer, you know.”

Maggie smiled, a grin that lit up her whole face. “I do know that.” She looked into his eyes, and Blake knew he would do anything for her.

“Anything to keep you from having to deal with Arnold Chauvel,” he said.

She nodded. “He’s a dick. I don’t want anything to do with him and his obsession to identify the Scarlet Pimpernel. He’s probably out there right now, trying to …” She stopped, sitting up straight. “Oh, shit.” She twisted to look behind her. “Switch seats with me,” she insisted, getting up. “I need to see the door.”

“What? Why?” Blake did as she said, but now he wanted to turn his back and see the door. “Are we in some kind of danger?” This suddenly felt like a spy thriller, and not in a good way.

“Chauvel.”

“What?” Blake looked around. “Where?”

“Chauvel,” she said, pulling out her phone again, distracted. She alternated between looking up past his shoulder and scrolling through something on the screen. “He wants to know who you are, and I terminated the contract this morning, and he’s pissed off, he was calling me, and I blocked him.” She looked up. “And with Giselda—”

“Wait, Giselda Shaw?” Blake tried to keep up.

Maggie nodded, speaking rapidly and quietly enough that he had to strain to listen. “She emailed just now. When I was on the train. Anyway, I probably don’t have time to explain, but Chauvel used to track her phone, and I think maybe he’s been tracking my phone.”

“How did he get your phone?”

“Our first meeting, I had to leave my phone with his security team.” She pressed her hand to her head. “He’s pissed that I’ve broken the contract, and he knows I’m meeting up with the Pimpernel, and he’s probably going to ambush us here, and we’ve got to go.” She grabbed her bag.

“Wait.” Blake reached out for her wrist before she could stand, his mind racing as he struggled to follow her train of thought. He didn’t know the in-between leaps, but he trusted the result. Maggie St. Claire was one of the smartest people he knew, and if she thought Chauvel was going to find her here, then he probably was. “Don’t run,” he said.

“Don’t you get it?” Maggie hissed. “He knows I’m meeting up with the Pimpernel. He’ll know who you are.”

Blake shook his head, the pieces coming together in his mind. It was ridiculous, and absolutely brazen, but it just might work. “I have an idea.”

He didn’t have time to explain before Maggie went pale, her eyes wide.

Chauvel must have arrived.

“Act normal,” Blake said, releasing her wrist to grab her hand instead. “Follow my lead.”

He felt Chauvel approach before he reached the table. Then his irritating voice sounded from right behind Blake’s shoulder. “Well, look who it is,” Chauvel said, finally reaching them, his smug expression directed right at Maggie. “I thought I might find you here. What a lovely place to meet the—”

Chauvel finally turned to Blake, and his words seemed to die in his throat, his expression turning from smugness to disgust. Blake made himself look as calm as he could, despite his pounding heart. “Oh, hello again.” He greeted Chauvel, getting to his feet to shake the man’s hand, giving him his best guy-next-door smile. “Thanks again for your generosity at the benefit gala. That money is going to do a lot of good.”

Chauvel’s mouth still hung open as he shook Blake’s hand, staring for a full five seconds before he came back to himself and stepped back. “This is who you’re having dinner with?” he asked Maggie.

“I’m her boyfriend,” Blake said, like he had no idea why Chauvel was confused. “Who else would she have dinner with?”

“The Scarlet Pimpernel!” Chauvel shot back. His face was flushed, and it looked like he was getting ready to have an aneurysm. “Not you!”

“You thought I was still going to have dinner with the Scarlet Pimpernel after your scene at the gala?” Maggie managed to sound derisive and amused all at once, and Blake could have applauded. “You’ve been making a lot of assumptions about me lately, Arnold, and I’m getting sick of it.” She folded her hands on the table. “I’m here trying to enjoy a nice dinner with my boyfriend, and I don’t have time for whatever bullshit you’re slinging.”

Chauvel clearly didn’t know what to do. He stared from Blake, to Maggie, then back to Blake, and a vein on his forehead throbbed visibly. “If you think—” he began, but Maggie interrupted.

“We’re done with business,” she said. “I’ve seen what you’re like to work with. Tracking my phone? Really? You should be in jail. And if you don’t want a whole article written about you, then maybe the decision to part ways should be mutual.”

His nostrils flared. “Are you threatening me?”

Maggie stared him down. “Not at all. I only want to set some clear boundaries for our professional relationship. The end of our professional relationship.”

Blake was so proud of her, he could hardly breathe. She looked completely composed, and he was probably the only one who knew she wasn’t. He could see the minute details in her body posture that showed she was barely hanging on. But she was hanging on.