Cameron never said I was crazy.
He let everyone else reach that conclusion.
The stranger looked at me.
“Do you want to go with him?”
His voice was so quiet I almost missed it.
I shook my head.
“Use your words.”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
My eyes burned.
“Yes.”
The hand that had settled briefly at my waist lifted away, leaving me free to move.
Then the stranger looked toward Cameron.
“She said no.”
Cameron’s smile faltered.
“With respect, sir, you don’t understand the situation.”
“Then explain it.”
“She’s not well.”
The stranger tilted his head.
“Is she injured?”
Cameron blinked.
“What?”
“Has she been drinking?”
“No, but—”
“Has she threatened anyone?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what exactly is confusing you?”
Silence.
One of the men beside the booth looked down.
I suspected he was hiding a smile.
Cameron straightened.
“Look, I appreciate your concern, but this is a private matter.”
The stranger reached for his whiskey.
Took a slow sip.
Then set the glass down.
“Not anymore.”
Cameron’s face changed.
For the first time that night, I saw genuine uncertainty.
“Do you know who I am?”
The stranger looked bored.
“No.”
Cameron’s jaw tightened.
“I’m Cameron Hale.”
No reaction.
“My father is Senator Richard Hale.”
Still nothing.
The stranger leaned back.
“Congratulations.”
Someone behind him coughed.
I almost laughed.
Almost.
Then Cameron looked at me.
And I saw it.
The promise in his eyes.
You’ll pay for this.
My breath caught.
The stranger noticed.
He turned slightly.
“Marco.”
One of the men stepped forward.
“Boss?”
“Escort Mr. Hale downstairs.”
Cameron stared.
“Excuse me?”
“He’s leaving.”
“This is ridiculous.”
The stranger looked at him.
“You’re still here.”
Marco stepped forward.
Cameron glanced at the guards.
Then at me.
His expression softened into something almost tender.
“Nora, sweetheart. You’re making a mistake.”
I looked away.
He lowered his voice.
“You know what happens when you do this.”
The stranger’s expression changed.
Not dramatically.
His jaw tightened.
That was all.
“Marco.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Now.”
Cameron was escorted toward the stairs.
He didn’t fight.
He was too intelligent for that.
But before disappearing into the crowd, he turned.
And smiled at me.
The smile was worse than a threat.
Because I knew what it meant.
He wasn’t finished.
***
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then the stranger looked at me.
“Are you planning to stay there all night?”
I realized I was still sitting on his lap.
“Oh my God.”
I scrambled upright.
“I’m so sorry.”
He watched me.
“I believe you mentioned that.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“Sit on a stranger?”
“Yes.”
“Interrupt a meeting?”
“Also yes.”
“Nearly give my security team a heart attack?”
I glanced at the three enormous men surrounding us.
“They look healthy.”
A beat of silence.
Then the man to his left laughed.
Actually laughed.
The stranger turned his head.
The laughter stopped.
I pressed my lips together.
Apparently jokes were not encouraged in this particular corner of Chicago.
“I’m leaving,” I whispered.
I took one step.
The room tilted.
My knees weakened.
Before I could fall, a hand caught my elbow.
Not painfully.
Firmly enough to steady me.
The stranger stood.
He was enormous.
At least six feet three.
Standing beside him, I felt absurdly small.
He looked down.
“When did you last eat?”
I blinked.
“What?”
“Food, Nora.”
“I know what food is.”
“Then answer.”
I swallowed.
“Yesterday.”
His expression hardened.
“Yesterday when?”
I looked away.
“Morning.”
He stared at me.
Then turned toward the man who had laughed.
“Matteo.”
“Yeah?”
“Get her something to eat.”
Matteo glanced at me.
“Anything specific?”
The stranger looked down.
“Are you allergic to anything?”
“Shellfish.”
Matteo nodded.
“Got it.”
He disappeared.
I stared after him.
Then looked at the stranger.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
“I can pay.”
His gaze moved to my worn shoes.
My cheap purse.
The tear in my skirt.
Then back to my face.
“Keep your money.”
My cheeks burned.
“I wasn’t asking for charity.”
“Good. I wasn’t offering charity.”
“Then what are you offering?”
He studied me.
“Dinner.”
I stared.
“That’s it?”
“For now.”
Those two words made my stomach tighten.
I glanced toward the stairs.
“Is Cameron really gone?”
“From this building.”
I swallowed.
“He’ll wait outside.”
“Possibly.”
“He knows where I live.”
“Do you want to go there?”
“No.”
“Then don’t.”
I almost laughed.
As though it were that simple.
As though ordinary people could simply refuse the things that frightened them.
I looked at him.
“You don’t understand.”
His expression didn’t change.
“You’re right.”
The admission surprised me.
He continued.
“I don’t know you. I don’t know him. And I don’t know what happened before you came through that door.”
He paused.
“But I know what I saw.”
My throat tightened.
“What?”
