Page 171 of Innocent

It’s the sadist in the house, with a darkly threatening tone I know all too well. “What thefuckdid I tell you about walking alone in the city, baby? And sitting with your back to a door, too?Tsk, that’s going to cost you, and you know it. It’s like you’retryingto bait me.”

I hang up on his low, throaty chuckle.

He doesn’t call back. Thankfully, Alexa is a combination of too drunk and too bedazzled by Leo’s charm to notice anything’s wrong. All I want to do now is finish our meal and get the hell out of there.

Except I don’t have anywheretogo, really. Leo will drag out his time with Elliot as long as he thinks he can.

When we finally finish, and I’ve talked all I can handle, and after I drink a third martini, I sit back and signal for the bill.

The server wears a beaming smile as he walks over and hands me a check folder. “I hope everything was satisfactory, sir?”

“It was wonderful, thank you.” We had fantastic service and the food was more amazing than usual. They even included cannoli for dessert, which I wasn’t expecting, but didn’t question.

The server leaves us to take another table’s drink order while I dig out my wallet. Alexa starts to open her purse, but I hold up a hand. “No, my treat. Seriously.”

“Thank you, that’s very sweet.”

I open the folder to double-check the bill just to find three twenties, some small bills, and change, and the bill marked paid, with a handwrittenThank you!and a smiley face drawn on it.

Cash, of course.

Motherfucker.

I force myself not to react as I stare at it. Instead, I leave a twenty and the rest of the small bills and change for the tip and pocket the receipt and the rest.

Whelp.NowI know where I’ll head next.

* * * *

I make sure Alexa gets safely in a cab heading home, then I check in with the head of Elliot’s detail to make sure he made it back to the residence.

He did.

I don’t ask whether or not Leo’s there because I know he either is, or will be shortly.

I pat my pocket, to make sure I have my official ID, and I take a cab to the White House. There’s a back service staircase that’s mostly used by household staff who have offices on the third floor, but which will allow me to bypass the second floor. Even if all the usual staff’s been cleared already, because of my status, I’ll be allowed to pass if I say I’m going there.

But they haven’t been cleared. And Leo’s office door is unlocked, meaning he expected me here.

He never leaves it unlocked at the end of the day. Hell, he rarely leaves it unlocked, period.

I open the door and in the middle of his desk blotter is a sticky note with a smiley face drawn on it.

I…

I don’t evenknowhow. He must have set it up before he left work, knowing what he was going to do and that it would piss me off enough to make me come bring him the change like this.

Well…

He’s right.

Andthatpisses me off, too. That he canstilleffortlessly predict what I’m going to do.

It shouldn’t give me hope.

Irefuseto let hope gain a foothold within me.

Because if it does and I’m wrong, it’ll fricking gut me.