One Night With My Best Friend's Uncle

unter in the garage playing on a loop in her head. You should be more careful with curling irons, Ms.

use both of them to lift it. The coffee was cold. She drank it anyway, th

laric Caldwell. The man from the hotel. The man who now ow

fell over

ain

er face was grim, her lips pre

said, her voice low. "His assistant

crashing onto her desk and sending a spray o

urse

whispered, her

re of pity and professional sternness. "This isn't a request, Elaine. It's

the last 24 hours. She had known, from the moment she recognized him in that garage, that this was coming. He was

s fidgeting. She felt the eyes of her colleagues on her as she walked towards the executive e

small, wood-paneled box, she felt a wave of claustrophobia. She w

46..

a silent, carpeted hallway. The air up here was

or stood a set of massive, im

t at a large desk just outside. She di

the assistant said, her

cement. N

r chest. She raised a trembling hand and knocked soft

and resonant and instant

me

as she turned the heavy brass h

dow, offering a breathtaking, god-like view of the Manhattan sk

silhouetted against the blindingly bright window. He

of the latch sounded like a jail cell door locking. She stood there, just inside

eyes and understood, with a cold certainty that had hollowed her out from the inside, exactly what she had done. She had run out on the man who now s

dn't make

ssing his phone onto the mass

e turne

his sharp, handsome features into stark relief. The str

ying, and failing, to forget

. The stranger she had spent one reckless

ity she had been dreading since this morning finally pressing down on her all at once. Her lungs seized. Her carefully

ips. Her knees buckled. She stumbled backward, her bo

d broke

esk, his dark eyes watching her with a cool, predatory am

s voice a silken, dangero

wishful thinking, that perhaps he wouldn't bring it up. That perhaps a man of his stature had too many more important things to

All she could think about was the five thousand dollars. The note. We're even. She had t

same primal flight res

the doorknob. She had to get out

do that if

en but sharp and cold as

her hand

t and utterly devoid of emotion, "and the first email you recei