Page 46 of Art of Sin

I glance at Gideon. Sunlight kisses his copper hair, and as always, shadows and secrets thrive in his eyes.

“Yes.”

With a final wave, I turn to leave. As I do, Finn leans forward, his hand grazing mine and clasping momentarily. My stomach twirls, my heart pounding as my fingers curl around a folded cocktail napkin.

I make it back to my colleagues.

Hide the napkin in my purse.

Pretend nothing happened.

Have two drinks.

Trade stories. Laugh. Gripe about Maxwell’s arrogance and Skylar’s underhanded tactics. Talk about Maggie’s upcoming trip to New York and Trent’s second date with a grad student at UCLA.

Act normal.

Pretend…

Act…

Hours later, alone in my condo, I pull out the little napkin and unfold it. I’m expecting Finn’s number, and it’s there. But the message above it brings a shock so intense my knees give out. Slumping into a chair at my kitchen table, I smooth the napkin with shaking fingers.

Gideon invited me tomorrow. He said you okayed it. Text if you change your mind.

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