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My launch?

I don’t move. Don’t speak. I’m probably gaping at him.

He chuckles. “For this country’s best pastry chef, you have a decidedly humble approach to talking about yourself.” He bends down, his head drawing closer to mine as he smiles at the crowd. “I like that.”

A tight itch crawls over my scalp. “You like that I don’t talk about myself?”

Ignoring me, he waves at the crowd and points at a willowy woman in it. “Gourmet Travellermag, yes? What do you want to know about my latest discovery?”

“Where did she come from?” the woman asks, holding a smartphone towards us. “Is she your protégé?”

“I taught her everything I know,” Jackson declares, sliding an arm around my shoulders.

What? I stare at him, and my head roars like a 747 is trying to land in it.

“Is she a good student?” someone farther back in the crowd asks.

“The best,” Jackson replies, lips curling as his eyes flick to my mouth.

What? What what what?

I shrug his arm from around my shoulders and step forward, distancing myself from him as much as I can without looking like I am. I hope. “Actually, my father?—”

“And that’s time on this introduction, I fear,” Jackson cuts me off, hand once more snaking over my back as he steps up beside me— No, a little in front of me. “But Aliana will be appearing on my show soon, so watch out for that. Oh, and don’t forget my YouTube channel. If you’re not a subscriber, become one. I promise, it’ll make your mouth water.”

The crowd laughs.

He slides me a shuttered smirk. “Or other parts of you water,” he says under his breath.

My mouth falls open. Oh my God, who… What? Is he always this?—

Before I know what he’s doing, he’s leading me away from the crowd, his palm on the small of my back. Is it creeping closer to my arse, or am I imagining it? A young woman rushes up to us, offering an iPad, a bottle of VOSS water, and a metallic-red vape. “Your four o’clock is waiting for you, Mr. Maine.” She gives me a quick look and then drops her stare to somewhere off to my side. “Will Aliana be joining you?”

“No,” I burst out, striding back a step and shaking my head. “I…have something to do.”

Like find out what the hell Kaami has done.

“You don’t want to catch up with your old boss?” Jackson rakes a gaze over me, and my skin itches, like my scalp did earlier. “I know Japher was eager to see you when I spoke with him before the interview.”

No wonder he was in the audience glaring at me. What doeshethink of this situation? One second Jackson Maine is contemptuous of my lack of official training, and the next he’s…claiming he’s responsible for my cooking skills? And while we’re being confused about things, just why the helldoeshe think he’s responsible?

“I need to talk to a friend,” I mutter, turning away. Where’s Kaami? I need?—

He appears in front of me. Not in a puff of purple smoke, but with long, confident strides from where he was standing in the wings. He beams at me—obviously very proud of his work—and reaches out to brush his index finger on the pulse in my neck. “Al.”

A delicious shiver ripples through me at his touch. Or maybe at the deep timbre and secret intonation of his voice.

“Kaami.” I breathe. “I need…”

I bite my bottom lip, not only to stop myself sayingto know what the hell is going on, but also because Japher is hurrying towards us, stare fixed on me.

No, change that. Stare fixed on Kaami.

“I need to go,” I finish, turning away from Jackson and my ex-boss and pressing my hand to Kaami’s chest. “Please?”

He draws in a deep breath and gently covers my hand with his. “I will take you where you wish to go.”

“You can’t go,” Jackson states, an irritated confusion in his voice. “I’m not finished. I’ve got plans for you.”

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