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CHAPTER3

Ayana

Good news: Vuk didn’t kill me during our flight to San Francisco.

Bad news: We had roughly twenty-eight hours left together, and I couldn’t guarantee his murderous tendencies wouldn’t pop up sometime between a slice of chocolate cake and our return to New York.

Due to morning traffic and unforeseen storms across the Midwest, we took off and landed later than expected. We didn’t have time to check in to our hotel before the tasting, so I freshened up in the jet’s bathroom instead.

Moisturizer, check.

Lipstick touch-up, check.

Swap out my flats for a pair of killer Louboutins, check.

When Vuk and I finally left the jet, a black Rolls-Royce was already idling on the tarmac.

He waited for me to slide in first before he joined me—though “joined” was too generous a term for the way he sat as far from me as humanly possible. He was pressed so tight against the opposite side of the car, I was surprised he and the door didn’t fuse together like some sort of weird billionaire-vehicle hybrid.

“I don’t have a contagious disease,” I said. “Youcansit like a normal person. I promise I don’t bite.”

No response.

Shocker.He’d acknowledged me with two seconds of eye contact when I showed up for our flight and proceeded to act like I didn’t exist.

I considered touching him briefly to see if he’d melt like the Wicked Witch of the West at my audacity, but since I wanted to arrive at the tasting in one piece, I pulled out my phone instead.

My plan to catch up on my favorite fragrance blogger’s latest posts disintegrated when I saw the name flashing on my screen.

Four letters, instant stomach-churning nausea.

“Hi, Hank.” I kept my tone even as I turned my back to Vuk and lowered my voice. He could still hear me, but the illusion of privacy was the only comfort I had in that moment.

Every time I talked to my agent, I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I couldn’t believe there’d been a time when I thought he was on my side.

That was one of the hardest parts of growing up—realizing the people you trusted to have your back were often the ones stabbing it.

“Ayana.” His oily greeting oozed over the line. “Did you make it to Cali okay?”

“Yes. We’re on our way to the tasting now.”

“Excellent. And I hear you’re with Vuk Markovic?”

My shoulders tensed. I hadn’t told Hank about my change in travel partner, but he knew. Healwaysknew.

I was so paranoid about his inexplicable omniscience that I’d swept my apartment and devices for surveillance bugs a few months ago. I hadn’t found anything, which was somehow worse than if I had.

“He was kind enough to fly with me after Jordan couldn’t make it.” I didn’t ask how he found out about Vuk.

Hank pounced on the smallest sign of weakness, and if he picked up on how much his seeming omniscience unnerved me, he’d double down on it.

“How generous of him.” A door slammed, followed by the sound of an espresso machine brewing in the background. “Well, I hate to interrupt your weekend…”

I almost snorted out loud.

He had no qualms about interrupting me when I was doing anything. He’d once insisted I run downtown for a last-minute casting call while I was in the middle of a dentist appointment.

“But I’m calling to make sure you’ll be back in time for the Delamonte Cosmetics shoot Monday morning.”Or else. Hank paused, letting his unspoken words fill in the silence before he continued. “They’re a big account. The agency will be very upset if you jeopardize this campaign, especially given your recent distractions.”