NEXT EVENING
The sun streamed through the window and warming Lucy’s skin. She rolled over slowly, her body still heavy with sleep. Her thoughts drifted to the day before, Barry, the garden, the library, and that strange, intense moment in the meeting room.
She sat up and shook her head. “Nope. Not thinking about that,” she muttered, swinging her legs off the bed.
It was a work day.
She dressed in black jeans and a deep green top, something simple but clean. As she pulled on her boots, a knock came at the door.
“Ready?” one of Barry’s guards asked.
Lucy nodded and followed him downstairs, her bag slung over her shoulder. The black car was already waiting. She slid into the back seat without a word.
The drive to the club was quiet as always. The streets were busy, people moving fast,
