I keep my hand plastered over the torn fabric of my blouse as we cross the lobby. Behind the reception desk, I can feel Security Guard Kyle’s eyes boring into my back. He’s a nice guy, but I’d bet dollars to donuts that he’s gonna start fertilizing the gossip grapevine the millisecond we leave the building.
I can’t even blame him. I’d do the same if I was in his shoes.
The automatic doors can’t open fast enough. When we finally burst through into the frigid February air, I suck in a breath so deep it makes my lungs ache.
“My car’s in the garage,” Bastian says without looking at me.
We walk in silence through the underground parking structure. Our footsteps echo endlessly.
Bastian’s Range Rover chirps as he unlocks it. I reach for the passenger door handle at the same moment he does. O
