Allison's POV
I shoved the door open hard enough to rattle the hinges, and froze just in time to catch the tail end of Bellingham's sentence.
"Pre—"
I narrowed my eyes. "Pre what?"
Bellingham wasn't the kind of man who left sentences hanging—or let emotion leak into his voice. But he looked like someone who'd just realized he'd stepped too far over a line.
His jaw flexed.
"Preoccupied," he said finally, too quickly. "She was always preoccupied with... ambition. You know how she gets."
My brow arched. "That's not what you were going to say."
He gave me a tight, too-polite smile and busied himself with straightening a coaster that didn't need straightening.
I stared at him for a beat longer.
"What were you two discussing exactly? Poetry slam night at the emoti
