I blink up at him.Head out?
 
 Right. Dinner.
 
 For a second I think he might cancel, or let me off the hook and pretend this whole thing was never meant to happen. But instead—“You can shower if you want,” He smiles. “Or we can head out now. Up to you.”
 
 Right. Because nothing screams casual like showering in a stranger’s house without any of your own clothes, and your past breathing down your neck through unknown number texts. But I try not to let my face show any of that. “I didn’t bring anything with me, I wasn’t planning on showering.”
 
 He shrugs, like this isn’t the most loaded moment of the day. “There’s a clean towel in the bathroom, and a new toothbrush under the sink.”
 
 Then, like it’s nothing, he adds, “And I left you something else for you. My assistant dropped it off last night.”
 
 His eyes catch mine. Waiting. “You can wear it if you want to.”
 
 I stare at him.
 
 “Don’t look so shocked,” he says with a smirk. “I’m not a complete savage.”
 
 No, just the kind of man who makes you feel like you’re slowly boiling while he keeps smiling and stirring the pot. Still, the thought of rinsing off is enough to make me nod. At least just so I can have a minute to myself, maybe check in with Sarah to see what I should do.
 
 “Five minutes,” I say, already pushing myself up from the couch.
 
 “Take your time, doll,” he calls after me. “We’re in no rush.”
 
 By the time I reach the bathroom, I half-expect the mirror to fog just from how hot my skin feels right now. Why do I get the feeling that Frank is some closet weirdo with a foot fetish.
 
 There’s a soft gray towel on the rack, perfectly folded and a brand-new toothbrush sitting beside the sink. I turn and see a dress hanging on the back door. It’s sleek, black and silky. And unmistakably my size.
 
 My throat goes dry.
 
 What kind of assistant drops something like this off without confirmation that I would be here? And what kind of man has afucking outfit ready when he didn’t even know if I was going to say yes? I guess that’s what having money does. You just buy it anyway, assuming no one will tell you no.
 
 I stare at it, heart thudding.It’s just a dress, Ani. Not a collar.
 
 I should text Steven. The thought hits hard, and I’m not even sure where that came from. I don’t even know what I’d say.Sorry I ghosted, just needed a breather and accidentally ended up at my almost-boyfriend’s mystery mansion where everything feels like a fucking trap?
 
 I squeeze my eyes shut, and open the bathroom door slowly, half expecting something to be different.
 
 The house is quiet as I make my way back downstairs, and I try not to hold my breath, but my chest is tight anyway.
 
 I step into the kitchen and he’s moving with casual precision, sliding something off the stove like we do this all the time. Calm as ever. Because apparently, I’ve decided today’s theme is ignore the red flags and go to dinner.
 
 Frank gives me a warm smile—one that makes my skin prickle despite how soft it looks—and sets his mug down.I really need to take a vacation after this. A real one. I’m exhausted.
 
 His eyes drag over me in one long sweep and I can see the moment he notes the outfit choice. But he doesn’t comment.
 
 “Good,” he says, grabbing his keys off the counter. “Let’s go.”
 
 I blink. “Now?”
 
 “Unless you want to change?”
 
 The smile he gives me is soft. I glance down at my outfit, shrugging. I’m not wearing that dress, despite how cute it was. But saying that now feels like poking the bear with a toothpick and hoping he doesn’t bite.
 
 “What I have on is fine. Thank you, though.”
 
 He holds the door open for me, and I follow him to the car in silence. The moment we pull out of the driveway, my nerves startto hum, and I’m getting tired again. Thank God when this is over I can sleep and I don’t actually have to go back to work. Even Frank isn’t talking much. Just flipping through his phone.
 
 “Where are we going?” I ask, trying to sound light.