Page 50 of You Owe Me

“Yes.”

“And this is your actual plan.”

“Obviously.”

“You’re terrifying.”

“Compliment accepted.”

She starts laying out what I already know are the dresses Sebastian sent—two options: one safe, one scandalous.

“Green,” I say before she even holds it up. “Carter wants bait? Let’s see if he chokes on it.”

Eliza tosses the dress to me. “Good. Because Sebastian said if you didn’t wear it, he’d personally show up and shove you into it.”

I slip it on and—damn. It’s deadly. Emerald green, slinky as sin, hugging my curves like it knows what it’s doing. The neckline dips low, the back dips lower, and I look like someone who’s about to walk into a room and start a fire just for fun.

“He sent heels and jewelry, too,” Eliza says, handing me a box. “And before you ask, yes, he picked the earrings himself. I didn’t let him go fullPretty Womanmontage, but it was close.”

I snort. “He’s lucky Maverick doesn’t know. Mav would have a coronary if he found out Sebastian’s dressing me for a night out with Carter.” I meet her eyes in the mirror. “He’d be mad because I lied.”

She doesn’t disagree. Maverick thinks I’m here to help Eliza study for her marine biology final, that I’ll crash here overnight and come home with notes and coffee and some dumb sea lion facts. He has no idea that tonight I’ll be standing next to Carter Mills, smiling like I’m not waiting for the moment I can stab him metaphorically—or literally—in the back.

“You sure about this?” Eliza pins the final twist of my hair into place. “Because once we walk in, there’s no backing out.”

“I’m sure. This is the only way to get close enough to find what he’s hiding.”

“And if you don’t?”

“I’ll improvise.”

I grab my clutch and check my phone. One message.

Maverick: Study hard. Don’t let Eliza convince you that dolphins are spies. Bring coffee tomorrow.

I swallow hard and type back.

Me: You got it. Love you.

Then I slip the phone away and square my shoulders, still wearing his scent like armor.

“Ready?” Eliza grabs her coat.

I nod. “Let’s go rattle the cages.”

We walk out the door, heels clicking like warning bells. As we step into the night, I don’t feel like prey; I feel like the one setting the trap.

The black car is already idling at the curb when we step out of the building—sleek, pretentious, probably detailed just for tonight. The windows are tinted, the driver doesn’t get out to open the door, and everything about it screams that Carter Mills thinks he’s important.

“Eliza,” I say under my breath, “remember, no matter how nice he pretends to be, he’s still a snake.”

She grins. “Good thing I brought my antivenom.”

We slide into the back seat where Carter’s already waiting, phone in hand but not doing anything with it—just holding it like he’s been waiting. His eyes flick up as we enter, and there it is. That flicker. He doesn’t say anything right away, doesn’t have to. I see it in the way his nostrils flare for a second, the subtle shiftin his posture, the barely there tic in his jaw when the scent of Maverick rolls off me and into his territory.

I settle into the leather seat like I belong there and smile politely. Eliza wedges in beside me, all legs and confidence in her navy gown, and Carter finally speaks.

“I wasn’t aware it was a group outing.” His voice is smooth but dipped in frost.

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