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"It wasn't meant to."

She gives me a look.

"Of course it wasn't."

Then she opens the door.

"I'll think about dinner," she says.

That's all she gives me. For now, it's enough.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Blaire

By the time I get back to the hotel that evening, I am too tired to pretend the extension is just another scheduling problem.

I drop my bag on the chair near the door, kick off my heels and stand in the middle of the suite for a moment while the quiet settles around me. Room service has already been delivered, but the tray on the table barely registers. I have calls to make before I can think about food.

I check the time first. It is still mid-afternoon in California. My phone vibrates before I can decide who to call. A message from Chloe appears across the screen.

Chloe: You have time to talk? How’s London going?

I stare at it for half a second, then type back.

Blaire: Yes. Calling you now.

I hit her name before I can overthink it. Chloe answers almost immediately.

“That was fast,” she says.

“I’m guessing things are going well?”

I sink onto the sofa and rub my forehead.

“That would be the wrong guess.”

“I knew it,” Chloe says.

“What happened?”

“Everything was fine until it wasn’t.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“It’s not catastrophic,” I say.

“It’s just a mess.”

Chloe is quiet for a beat.

“Is this about the project or Ross?”

“Both.”

“I figured.”

I lean back against the cushions.