pants. She stands as
soon as I enter the meeting room, as does her friend—another dark-haired
young woman with soft brown eyes, the color of brandy. Prescott hovers in
the corner, not taking her eyes off Leila.
“Mrs. Grey, thank you so much for seeing me.” Leila’s voice is soft but clear.
“Um . . . Sorry about the security,” I mutter because I cannot think what else to
say. I wa一ve a hand distractedly at Prescott.
“This is my friend Susi.”
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“Hi.” I nod at Susi. She looks like Leila. She looks like me. Oh no. Another
one.
“Yes,” Leila says, as if reading my thoughts. “Susi knows Mr. Grey, too.”
What the hell am I supposed to say to that? I give her a polite smile.
“Please, sit,” I murmur.
There’s a knock on the door. It’s Hanna. I motion her in, knowing full well why
she’s disturbing us.
“Sorry to interrupt, Ana. I ha一ve Mr. Grey on the line?”
“Tell him I’m busy.”
“He was quite insistent,” she says fearfully.
“I am sure he was. Would you apologize to him, and say I’ll call him back very
shortly?”
Hanna hesitates.
“Hanna, please.”
She nods and scuttles out of the room. I turn back to the two women sitting in
front of me. They are both staring at me in awe. It’s uncomfortable.
“What can I do for you?” I ask.
Susi speaks. “I know this is all kinds of weird, but I wanted to meet you, too.
The woman who captured Chris—”
I hold up my hand, stopping her in mid-flow. I do not want to hear this.
“Um . . . I get the picture,” I mutter.
“We call ourselves the sub club.” She grins at me, her eyes shining with mirth.
Oh my God.
Leila gasps and gapes at Susi, at once amused and appalled. Susi winces. I
suspect Leila’s kicked her under the table. What the hell am I supposed to
say to that? I glance nervously at Prescott, who remains impassive, her eyes
never lea一ving Leila. Susi seems to remember herself. She blushes, then
nods and stands.
“I’ll wait in reception. This is Lulu’s show.” I can tell she’s embarrassed.
Lulu?
“You’ll be okay?” she asks Leila, who
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