Page 99 of Knotted

I shake my head, “Fire away, Ms. Voss. Because you’re not getting jack shit from me.”

Logan strolls in, two coffees in hand, his eyes immediately narrowing at the viper in the room. “You need to leave,” he says, tone sharp and unflinching.

Even though he’s got a solid foot and at least a hundred pounds on Roxie, the look on his face says he’s one snide comment away from yanking her by that overpriced Birkin and drop-kicking her scrawny ass straight out the door.

Roxie’s smile stretches, slow and wicked, her eyes clinging to me like a leech sucking the life out of its host.

“I was just leaving,” she says, sauntering to the door with the confidence of someone who knows she’s left a bomb ticking in thecloset.

She pauses at the threshold, glancing back with that same smug, self-satisfied grin. “See you at the gala,” she sings.

And it’s disturbing—like watching a creepy clown grin from the shadows, hunting you down with a red balloon. It’s not just that she showed up here, uninvited, or even the way she casually tried to blackmail me for an exclusive.

It’s those words.

See you at the gala.

Five simple, harmless words. Except they’re the exact same ones at the end of Sydney Sun’s last email.

Coincidence? Maybe.

Unease twists in my gut, the gnawing thought that Sydney Sun and Roxie Voss are somehow...connected. But why? My brain spins like a mouse on a wheel, running fast but getting nowhere.

“You all right?” Logan asks, breaking through the haze.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Just thinking.”

“Dangerous,” he smirks, handing me my coffee.

I take a sip, but it does nothing to shake the unsettled feeling that something’s off. And for whatever reason, all I want is to talk to my girl.

Scratch that. Ineedto talk to her. I’m on edge, prickly, and the urge to check on Jules is clawing at me from the inside out.

Plus, a few words from her is all I need to smooth away all the wrinkles in my day. And right now, Roxie Voss is a big fucking wrinkle that I need gone.

I pull out my phone and hit dial.

On the second ring, Taylor picks up. Of course, she does. She’s the one who snagged Jules the gala invite in the firstplace, and if I know Jules, Taylor probably had to drag her, kicking and screaming, out of her jeans and into a dress.

“Wait until you see her,” she squeals, skipping the hello entirely.

And now, with Taylor gushing over how great my Peach Pop looks, everything seems strangely...normal. I’m not even sure why I called.

Still, my spidey sense doesn’t ease off. “Can I talk to Jules?”

“Nope. She’s in the middle of hair and makeup. We’re lucky she hasn’t bolted yet. If the glam team can’t keep her still, they’ll have no choice: horse tranquilizer.”

I exhale slowly, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Fine. So, everything’s...okay?”

“Yup.”

“So . . . I guess I’ll see you there.”

“Uh-huh,” she says, her tone casual, like she’s barely paying attention. Probably too busy admiring her reflection in her freshly manicured nails.

Now me calling is just getting weird. I’m not even sure why I’m still on the line. “Great. See you two there,” I mutter, feeling ridiculous as I hang up.

CHAPTER 44

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