Page 50 of Hard Limits

Mr. Vale trailed behind Carissa, his expression black. Was that because of her? Or due to the extent of the repairs that were required?

“Why didn’t someone put the fire out sooner?” she asked. “We have fire extinguishers, don’t we?”

“It probably took hold inside the machine, my darling.”

“Well, have you tried complaining to the manufacturer? They should be paying for this, not us.”

“I’ll raise it with them in due course. Our priority is to get the club up and running again.”

“Why aren’t there more people here? Everything’s filthy.”

“Because we’re making sure the place is safe first.”

She gave the electrician a once-over and clearly didn’t like what she saw. Her nose wrinkled, and her mouth flattened in disgust. He must have picked up on the vibes because he climbed down the ladder, muttered an excuse, and practically ran out of the room. Then she turned her attention to me.

“And you must be Meena?”

“Meera.”

“Lovely. I’ve heard all about you.”

From who? I was certain Mr. Vale hadn’t told her a thing. Which meant he’d been right—spies were reporting our every move back to her.

“Really? I think I saw your name on some paperwork. You’re Clarissa, right?”

Behind her, Mr. Vale smirked.

“Carissa. No L.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” For once, I absolutely wasn’t. “Are you here to help with the clean-up?”

“What? Good heavens, no. I’m on my way to brunch. But let me make it up to you this evening. We can all go out for dinner.”

Mr. Vale’s eyes widened. He clearly hadn’t been expecting this.

“That won’t be necessary, Carissa,” he said.

“Oh, don’t be silly. You both have to eat. I’ll make reservations at Le Jardin for eight o’clock. Sophie can join us too.”

“I think we were planning to work late,” I tried.

“Don’t let this slave driver push you around.” She elbowed Mr. Vale in the side, and he glared at her. “There’s a dress code. Wear something nice.” Carissa turned on her heel and gave a little finger wave as she headed for the door. “See you later.”

Mr. Vale sagged against the dirty wall and groaned. “It’s fine. We just won’t go. And don’t ask why I married her, because right now, I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t even do drugs in college.”

A clatter came from the hallway outside.

“Will someone move this damn bucket!”

“Sorry, Ms. Dunn.”

Oops.

“If we don’t go, won’t she think we have something to hide?”

“Probably. But I’m not putting you through that.”

“Who’s Sophie?”

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