Page 37 of Moth to a Flame

I’ve been cautious. The most noise I’ve made was bashing Clayton’s head into the floor.

Maybe someone heard that and called the cops?

If that’s the case, I’m not answering. They’ll leave on their own.

I shrug, recovering the velvet box from the duffel bag. One green eye, one blue, and I snap it closed. Though I hope Regan won’t remember what that prick looked like, she probably will. You can forget a lot of things. It’s not every day that you see one person with two different eye colors.

Three more raps come from the door. “Landon, I know you’re in there.”

At that, my hackles rise. I’d recognize that voice anywhere. “Vince?”

“Yes, Vince,” he groans. “Open up, L. I’m not having this conversation through the door.”

My CFO and best friend since kindergarten shouldn’t be here. I turned off the location on my phone. All I said to my secretary was to clear my schedule.

I even stopped stalking Regan through our app.

“Are you coming, or what?”

Well, nothing to do about that now.

“Yes, dear.” I throw my velvet box into the duffel, lose my gloves, and head to the door.

Before I open, I glance at the round mirror by the door and…perfect. Not a smudge of blood on my face. I styled my hair in a half-up half-down do, so no vomit or blood got on me.

With a large, not entirely fake smile on my face, I open the door, slide through the small crack, and go out into the hallway.

It takes some maneuvering since Vince blocks my exit. I make do, given he’s five inches shorter than me, and while he’s muscular, I’m bigger than him.

For obvious reasons, he can’t come inside.

“How did you know I would be here?”

“Hello to you too.” He runs a hand through his short blond hair. Fixes his glasses up his nose. Scowls. “You don’t live here.”

“Such a stark observation.” Deflecting isn’t my thing. I don’t have much of a choice. I won’t admit to why I’m here, in a crappy apartment in the middle of the night. “Or are we playing a game? Guess it’s my turn, then. You’re wearing a jacket over a white shirt and have dark blue pants on.”

“For fuck’s sake, Landon.” His blue eyes narrow. “Beverly came into my office this morning. To talk.”

“That’s usually what coworkers do.” Except I didn’t talk to anyone in the office today. Oops.

“Yes. Coworkers andfriends.” He emphasizes the last word. “At first, I thought she was overreacting when she said you were jeopardizing the future of Moth to a Flame and yours.”

“That does sound a little dramatic. Another stark observation, good job, Vince.”

“Stop. Stop.” Another shove of his glasses. “You’re not getting out of this.”

I flutter my eyelashes. “Of what, exactly?”

“Not going to work.” He huffs, and his gaze flickers to the spot my shoulder.

That does it. I drop my act. Move to block his view, even though the door is closed.

What I have back there is my business, not his.

My arms cross over my chest. “How did you track me down here?”

“I thought she was overreacting,” he repeats, his voice lower. “Until she called me into her office a few hours later and showed me your little worm.”

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