Page 204 of Sexting His Assistant

My phone buzzes.

Nina.

Elevator. Relax.

For reasons I’m too tired to examine, that one word makes something loosen in me.

Relax.

As if I have ever done that properly in my life.

I type back.

Unlikely.

Then I stand there holding the phone, waiting for the next message. Inside. That’s all she has to send.

One word.

I wait.

Nothing comes.

A minute passes.

I tell myself she is walking down the hallway. Maybe removing those impossible heels. Maybe unlocking the door while rolling her eyes at me. Maybe she has seen Misha’s bag and is checking whether he has come back.

Another minute passes.

I look at the building.

Sergei notices. “Boss?”

I call Nina. It rings.

No answer.

I call again.

No answer.

The small, loosened place in me goes hard at once.

I have to find out if she’s okay. I get out of the car and cross the road. Sergei jogs up to me. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know,” I say, and I don’t. My instincts are telling me something is wrong.

The night guard in the lobby looks up when we enter, and his face changes when he sees me. He starts to stand too quickly, knocking a pen off the desk.

“Sir?” the guard says.

I don’t answer him.

The elevator takes too long.

Sergei stands beside me without speaking, his hand near his jacket. The number display climbs with unbearable calm.

When the doors open, the hallway is quiet.