The Grand Pact (The Grand Men #1)(31)

He swings his eyes back to the phone and tightens his gaze on me. “You opened the envelope already?”

My face falls, but it’s quickly overcome with surprise. “What! That’s the secret?” I smile. “I thought you said it was a fear!”

He’s laughing at me. “You didn’t open it.”

“No! I forgot. I was about to on the plane when I met Maxwell, and he calmed me down. I put it in my bag and thought I’d save it.”

“Save it.” He nods.

“Does it say you love my movies?” I grin.

He carries on searching for the film. “You’ll find out one day.”

“I want to open it now.”

“You’ll ruin it if you do. What happens when you need it and you’ve wasted it?”

“I don’t know. I’ll ring you and take another.”

“Savage, Luce.”

“Tell me! Or I’m going to go get it.”

“No. Press play and shut your mouth.”

“Not what you said last night,” I mutter, pulling the duvet up to my chin, amused.

He stops and gives me a calculated look through the screen, and I don’t know what he’s thinking, but his frown wipes the smile from my mouth and makes my cheeks heat instantly.

“Who the fuck is Maxwell?”





They say New York is the city that never sleeps, but as I peel back the covers and tiptoe to my hotel window, I stare out at the overcast sky and wonder how the night can turn everything so dreary and cold. I’m still trying to adjust to the time change, and it’s bound to take time, but I also know that the worry running rampant through my head is the reason behind my four a.m. wake-up call.

I have one day before I start at Almendo, and I plan to get out and explore a little today. Anything to make myself feel less of a tourist on Monday.

It was easy to stay in the hotel yesterday and work on the emails Monica had sent, but it also ended up being an excuse not to get out and sightsee.

Now it’s four a.m., I’m wide awake, and I have nothing to do.

I consider calling Nina, knowing she and the girls will be up and likely getting the children breakfast. Well, Megan won’t be up. But I don’t want to ring them. Although I promised to call them if I needed them, I don’t want to be constantly calling home.

I want to do this on my own.

Breathe, Luce.

With a shaky hand, I grasp the window handle and push it open. The city assaults me in all its energetic glory, making the dull sky come to life in an instant. A police siren wails, sounding close before it fades and becomes distant—but not completely silenced. One thing I’ve noticed in the two days I’ve been here is New Yorkers don’t let a lot of things bother them. Back home, an ambulance roars down the street, and you stop for a second and watch as it goes by. Here, people are in another world. It’s thrilling. They sidestep anything in their way.

I watch as a group of teenagers emerge from a side street, falling around and shrieking as they laugh in their intoxication. They don’t look old enough to be out this late. It reminds me of my uni days when I’d burn the candle at both ends, then crawl in from a party at five and be in class by nine.

I miss being so carefree. I want to yell down at them to enjoy this moment, that it will be gone, and life will catch up soon.

God, that’s pathetic.

I sound old.

I need to snap out of this mood and be my own vibe.

Grabbing my phone from the bed, I sit back in the plush tub chair and lie my legs along the windowsill. The full moon lights up the sky and illuminates my skin, making my legs look milky and super smooth. I snap a quick picture and upload it to Instagram.

I caption it 4 a.m. thoughts.

Not even one minute later, my phone rings.

“Princess, you should be sleeping.”

I tip my head back and rest it against the chair. “I tried.”

“What’s in your head?” Elliot asks as if it’s a normal question.

I sigh, not dwelling on my reluctance to tell him. “How I miss old times. The easiness of being young and carefree.”

“Fair. But why at four o’clock in the morning?”

“I don’t know. I think my body clock is off.”

“Give it a couple days, and you’ll start work; you’ll find a routine, and your body will follow.”

He’s right. “Why are you up already? It’s a Sunday.” I frown.

“I was up early to work out. Couldn’t sleep.”

“You couldn’t? You sleep like the dead.”

“I had a fucked-up dream.”

I smile up at the ceiling. “What was it about?”

“If you laugh,” he says accusingly.

“I won’t. I swear.” I cross my heart even though he can’t see.

“I was in this castle and couldn’t get out. These weird Viking people were yelling shit about coming outside, and then I was in The Montwell, and Mase was smashing up his office, telling me the ball was going to drop, and he’d missed it. I was bollock naked the whole time.”

“What?!” I howl. “Hold on, hold on. Back up to the Vikings.” I laugh.

“I don’t even know. It’s hazy as fuck now but felt real in the moment. You were there,” he tells me as if he’s just remembering. “Megan too. You thought we were going to die and wanted us to jump out the window.”