Page 86 of Heated

A quick rap on my office door is the only warning I receive before Miriam opens the door and sticks her head in the opening.

“You ready? Our client is here.”

I roll away from my desk and stand. After grabbing my suit jacket off the back of my chair, I slip it on.

“I’m ready. But I still don’t understand why both of us have to sit in on this meeting. You could’ve handled it just fine.”

Miriam shrugs a shoulder. “Don’t I know it. Especially since I came up with this new package I’m dying to try out. Picture this. You know how they have the kiss cam at games? Why not the breakup cam?”

She spreads jazz hands out in front of her, grinning.

I cross my arms. “So basically broadcast the breakup with thousands of their nearest and dearest closest friends?”

Miriam drops her arms and purses her mouth. “The idea could use a little tinkering.”

Snorting, I move past her into the hall. “Just a little.”

We walk toward the lobby, and just before we reach the end of the hallway, Miriam reaches out and captures my hand. Startled, I stutter-step, glancing down at our clasped hands, then looking at her.

Concerned, I frown. “Are you okay?”

She squeezes my fingers.

“Yes.” She smiles at me. “I love you, and you deserve all the good things.”

“I love you too,” I say, returning the smile but confused. “And thanks. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. And everything.” She grins wide and strides out into the lobby.

Shaking my head, I follow ... and draw up short.

Shock takes a sledgehammer to my chest and slams the air from my lungs. The power of the blow ricochets through every one of my limbs, rendering me motionless. But anger, fear, joy—those emotions stream through me unchecked and so violent that my head lightens.

No.

Hell no, you will not faint.

I lock my knees and fist my hands, the bite of nail into soft flesh grounding me.

And I need to be grounded, to be present, when facing the man who broke my heart.

“Hello, Zora,” Cyrus says, standing in my lobby, as if it’s an ordinary weekday and the last time he saw me, he hadn’t sent me home alone from a luxury resort.

At least he’d paid for first class on my trip back.

“Cyrus.” It’s a small thing, but I’m proud that my voice doesn’t tremble or, worse, break. “What’re you doing here?”

“We were in the neighborhood,” Jordan chimes in.

Wow. I’d been so absorbed with Cyrus that I hadn’t noticed the basketball player behind him. And that’s saying something since his head damn near grazes the ceiling.

“Hi, Jordan,” I greet him, and my confusion grows.

Why is Cyrus, much less his best friend, here? What is going on?

To my left, I catch a whispered, “Is that Jordan Ransom?”

Oh great. Miriam neglected to tell me we haverealclients in the lobby. I turn to Miriam to ask if she can show our clients to her office when Levi strolls into the lobby. Panic screams inside my head like a tornado siren.Oh shit.He can’t know Cyrus’s identity. I mean, he’d threatened the man. I have to get Cyrus out of here—