Page 112 of High Roller

When I locate the registrar’s office on the third floor, there is a line. Classes start in less than a week, so it’s not surprising.

When it’s finally my turn, the woman at the desk frowns. “Everything seems to be in order, Ms. Marsh. Are you sure you got a call from us?”

I play her the voicemail, and her frown deepens. “We don’t have a Sandy Rollins who works here. That’s very strange.”

My heart jumps into overdrive. What does this mean?

But I don’t want to spook her, so I thank her for her time and head back into the hallway. When I’m clear of the long line of students waiting to handle last-minute paperwork, I race for the elevator at the other end of the hall while scrambling for Victor’s number.

“It was some kind of setup,” I say between gasps of air. I’m seriously out of shape.

“What do you mean?” His voice is harsh, and I can tell he’s on high alert.

“There was no one by the name Sandy Rollins at the registrar’s office, and they didn’t call me. My paperwork was complete exactly like I thought. What should I do?”

“Are you safe? Is security with you?”

“He’s waiting outside the building.”

“Why the fuck didn’t he come in with you?” Victor demands.

“I… convinced him not to because he was making me uncomfortable.”

“I’m going to fucking kill him. Find somewhere to sit and don’t fucking move.”

Angry Victor is not my favorite Victor, but this is a serious situation, so I find a bench in the lobby of the third floor and sit as instructed.

“I’ll send him in to fetch you. Don’t go anywhere alone, Grace. Period.”

“Yes, Sir,” I whisper. But the call is already disconnected, so he doesn’t hear me.

Ten minutes pass and no one comes for me. I dial Victor’s number, but he doesn’t answer.

God damn it. What is going on?

Finally, my phone rings.

“Your security isn’t answering their fucking phone. Where are you? I’m sending a friend for you.”

My heart is racing. This is all so terrifying. “I’m on the third floor outside the elevators.”

“Good. His name is Memphis Foster. Ask for his ID.”

I roll my eyes but don’t argue.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” I whisper.

“We’ll talk about it later, Grace. I’m sorry I can’t come for you myself.”

The call ends again, and I pull my legs up onto the bench and sit so I can hug my knees.

What is going on? I’ve got a stalker. Someone is trying to hurt the people I consider family. And I’m falling for two people at the same time. Something I didn’t think I would ever do again. Was this phone call related to my stalker or the people trying to hurt Victor and the others? Are they the same person? It doesn’t seem possible. But it also doesn’t seem possible for me to have a stalker. I’m just not that interesting.

I sit on the bench for another fifteen minutes before a handsome man with a thick beard and perfectly styled blond hair steps out of the elevator and looks around. When he spots me, a smile spreads across his face, and he moves toward me. I swing my legs off the bench and sit up straighter.

“Are you Grace Marsh?”

I nod and look him up and down as he pulls out a wallet. “I’m Memphis Foster. Victor asked me to pick you up.”

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