“Out of town?” I asked, staring at Cole.
He nodded. “Two days. The Peterson pitch. We’re meeting them tomorrow morning.”
“Just us?”
“Just us.” His voice was low and too calm.
“This is a nightmare.”
He smirked. “You mean dream.”
I shoved his jacket off my shoulders. “I mean disaster.”
“You’ll survive.”
I rolled my eyes. “Are we driving or flying?”
“Driving. Let’s go.”
We left by noon. I'd gone home, picked a few things and returned. His black SUV was parked outside, sleek and expensive. I climbed in, crossing my legs tightly.
Cole glanced at me. “Still mad?”
“Well, I'm still employed.”
He laughed. “Margaret bought the story. Relax.”
“I don't think I can, not until this trip is over.”
“That’s hours away.”
“Exactly.”
We drove in silence for a while, the highway endless, trees
