Page 32 of Meet Me at Midnight

The phone vibrates in my hand again, and I clench my jaw. I cannot look. Will not look. Not until she’s gone.

“I’m just…” I search for an explanation quickly, worry building over how long Beau will stay in the chat if I don’t respond soon. The first thing that comes to mind is work, and I run with it. Thanks to her hands-off office disposition, she won’t know what I’m talking about anyway. “I’m just looking through some spreadsheets your dad’s assistant wanted me to double-check.”

“Spreadsheets for what?”

Of all the fucking times for Avery to give a single shit about the work we both should be doing but I always end up doing alone…You’ve got to be kidding me!

“Spreadsheets for…” I rack my brain for a fruit salad of words that will give her a headache. “Quantum physics campaigns that showcase how the age of digital marketing has shown significant advancements over the course of the past decade and how the steady—”

“Oh my God, shut up,” she cuts me off and hops off my bed. “Whatever you just said sounds contagious, and I don’t have time to come down with the nerd gene.”

“Have fun,” I tell her, my fingers already hovering over the screen of my phone, ready to respond to Beau the instant she steps out of my room.

“I’d tell you the same, but I think we both know that’s impossible with your plans,” she calls over her shoulder at my door. “Text me if you shape-shift into someone fun!” A minute later, I hear her grab her keys and purse, and the door closes on a click.

Thank everything!My sigh of relief is audible as I unclutch the phone from my chest and finally read the messages that are waiting for me.

ThunderStruck: Hello, Mystery Woman.

ThunderStruck: You there?

I put my fingers to the screen and respond as fast as I can.

ElizaBeth: I’m here.

His response comes ten seconds later.

ThunderStruck: I thought maybe you weren’t going to show.

ElizaBeth: Sorry about that. I was a little preoccupied, but yeah…I’m here.

ThunderStruck: Anything interesting doing the preoccupying?

ElizaBeth: If I told you, I’d no longer be the Mystery Woman.

ThunderStruck: Then who would you be?

ElizaBeth: I see what you did there. Nice try.

ThunderStruck: I don’t know if you know this about me, but I’m a pretty determined kind of guy. When I want something, I usually don’t stop until I get it.

I don’t think his words are meant to be sexual, but man, do they spur some fantasies inside my head. What would it be like if Beau Banks wantedme?

ElizaBeth: I’m fully aware of what kind of guy you are, Beau.

ThunderStruck: Oh yeah?

ElizaBeth: Yeah.

ThunderStruck: How?

ElizaBeth: I have my ways.

Ways. I nearly snort. I’ve been watching Beau Banks like a creeper for more than half my life. I know everything there is to know about him that doesn’t happen behind closed doors or inside the zipper of his pants.

I am, of course, eager to fill in the gaps in my education posthaste.

ThunderStruck: Are you trying to tease me, ElizaBeth?

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