Page 29 of In A Mood For Mr. Wrong

"Fine," I say, forcing my voice to stay firm. "Let’s end this."

Grayson’s smirk returns, but there’s something darker in his expression now. "I thought you’d never say so."

We get to work immediately, setting up the bait. Grayson fires off a message to Olivia, while I make a show of texting my assistant about 'returning home', just enough to let the wrong people notice. As I type, Grayson leans against the counter, scrolling through his contacts. "Alright, I’ll handle Elliot. You talk to his date."

I scoff. "Oh, so I get the panicked woman, and you get the neurotic disaster?"

"I’m delegating." He smirks. "Besides, you’re better at talking people down."

I roll my eyes but hit dial. The phone barely rings before a high-pitched voice answers.

"Margot! Oh my God, is Elliot always like this? He’s awalkingcontradiction. One second, he’s charming, the next he’s acting like I just suggested a legally binding contract. And don’t even get me started on dinner, he literally took notes while we were talking! Like, full-on, bullet-point notes. I think he even categorized them. I was torn between being flattered and deeply concerned."

I bite back a laugh. "That sounds about right. At least he’s thorough."

She groans. "Oh, it gets worse. When I tried to flirt, he short-circuited. I told him his shirt looked good, and do you know what he said?"

"Please tell me it was something painfully awkward."

"Oh, it was. He said, 'Ah, yes, I purchased it at a reasonable discount online.' Like, what? Whosaysthat?"

I press a hand to my forehead, laughing despite myself. "Okay, that’s pretty bad. But in his defense, that’s peak Elliot.""

I bite back a laugh. "Yeah, that sounds about right. But trust me, if he’s running, that means helikesyou. He just doesn’t know how to deal with it."

Meanwhile, Grayson is pacing, his phone pressed to his ear. "Elliot, for the love of God, stop spiraling." I hear muffled protests on the other end.

"No, youdon’tneed to create an exit strategy. You went on one date, not a hostage situation."

I snort, covering my mouth with my hand as Elliot's voice rises. Grayson rubs his temples. "I don’t care if she made you try a cocktail with 'unbalanced flavor notes', what does that even mean? Just admit you had fun."

My own call isn’t much better. Elliot’s date sighs dramatically. "He barely looked me in the eye when we said goodbye! And then he texted me, 'Nice seeing you', that’s practically a breakup text! And worse? He put aperiodat the end. Aperiod, Margot. Who does that? It was so formal, like he was submitting a report instead of texting someone he just had a great date with!"

I stifle a laugh. "Okay, yeah, that’s bad. But trust me, he’s probably agonizing over it right now. He probably typed and deleted twenty different versions before settling on that one."

She gasps. "Oh my God. Do you think he considered an exclamation mark and panicked?"

I smirk. "One hundred percent. You’ve got him rattled. That’s a good thing."

"Good forwho? Because I feel like I need a Xanax just thinking about it."

"Trust me, that’s Elliot speak for 'I had a great time and I’m terrified about it.'"

She groans. "Oh, God. So what do I do?"

I glance at Grayson, who’s now pinching the bridge of his nose while Elliot continues ranting. "Honestly? Just text him back andbe normal. The poor man is probably overanalyzing whether 'nice seeing you' was too cold."

Grayson looks up at me, eyes glinting with amusement. "I think I just convinced Elliot not to fake his own death to avoid texting her back. Small wins."

I shake my head, smiling despite everything. "Good. Because once this mess with Liam is over, those two are going to need a matchmaking intervention."

Grayson smirks, setting his phone down. "Alright, back to the real problem. We need to control where and when Liam makes his move."

I nod, my mind already spinning through the details. "If we make it look like I’m going home alone, he won’t be able to resist. But we need to be ready."

"Exactly." Grayson pulls up a map of my apartment building on his phone and sets it on the counter between us. "There are only two real entrances, front lobby and the parking garage. We’ll have Olivia spread word that you’re heading back tonight."

I study the map, tracing a finger over the pathways. "I’ll leave in a cab instead of my usual car. Make it seem like I don’t want to draw attention."

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