Page 145 of Pandora's Pleasure
Damien:Where are you?
I hoped he wasn’t at the apartment. I started to type a reply, but paused for a moment when I saw Phoebe scurry inside the café with big sunglasses on and a baseball cap pulled low.
I quickly replied to Damien’s text:I’ll call soon.
Outside the car, I put on my sunglasses and approached the café, my bobbed wig camouflaging my blonde hair. The sports clothes I had on gave me a dressed-down look—not the kind of outfit I usually chose to wear when going out.
Inside, I purchased two coffees and joined a nervous-looking Phoebe in the corner booth. She had every reason to be scared. Should she return to Vanguard after her secret was revealed, they would rip her to shreds. If she didn’t turn up at Galante’s home as scheduled, he’d probably destroy her life. She was caught between two powerful entities—essentially trapped.
“Glad you made it,” I said.
Her eyes went wide as she studied my face. “I knew I’d seen you somewhere before.”
“Our little secret, right?”
“Of course.” She set her sunglasses on the table.
I gestured to her purse. “Turn off your phone.”
While waiting for her to comply, I looked around at the other few customers in the café, making sure no one would overhear our conversation.
She shoved her phone back into her purse. “Aren’t you meant to be marrying the President’s son?”
“He’s not President yet.”
She eyed me suspiciously. “Did they send you?”
“No. And they’ll never find out. Right?”
“I won’t tell them.” She blinked nervously. “Who were you with at Vanguard?”
“I wasn’t there,” I said boldly.
She nodded. “Me neither.”
“Right.”
And after all, we both knew I hadn’t handed her over to the men at Vanguard who would have done God knows what to punish her for being in Galante’s pocket.
Her eyes watered. “You think you can help me. You can’t.”
“What if I told you that all the evidence Galante has on you is accessible, which means it can be destroyed.”
“You don’t think people have tried that?”
“Maybe they tackled it from the wrong angle.”
Perspiration spotted Phoebe’s upper lip. “What are you going to do to me?”
“That’s up to you.” I rested back against the plastic seat.
She reached for her coffee and pulled off the lid, blowing on the drink to cool it.
“I can’t go back to Vanguard,” she said.
“You’re done there,” I agreed.
“I loved that place. I could just be me, you know?”
