Page 79 of Love Under the Microscope
“Because I know exactly where the formula is.”
I rear back and blink rapidly. “What?”
“I know where it is.”
“Why did you let us break into his damn office, then?” I scrub a hand down my face, unable to believe what I’m hearing. “Are you playing me or something, Zelda?”
She shakes her head. “No. I honestly thought that’s where the pages were, but now I know exactly where to find them.”
“Where?”
“His parents’ house.”
Huh? That makes no sense. “And how did you figure that out?”
“He took the pages from my stuff at his place, so he wouldn’t hide them there since that’s the first place I’d look.”
“He might, but you haven’t looked there.”
“No, because he wouldn’t leave them there. They weren’t in his office either.”
“They could be in the safe.”
Zelda shifts slightly, and her foot rubs against my dick. I use all my concentration to keep it from popping up to play. When I see how excited she looks at the idea of knowing where her pages are, I know I should give that my full attention, and not the possibility of being inside her again.
“I’m telling you that the pages are at his parents’ house. According to the gossip columns, they’re in Europe and will be for the next three months.”
“The gossip columns?”
She waves me aside. “His dad is an actor. Neil Carrington.”
“From the soap opera?”
She nods. “That’s him. What I’m thinking is we break into the house, find the pages, and get the hell out of Dodge.”
“I don’t know.” This doesn’t sound like a smart idea. It could also land us both in jail. We got lucky the first time. “His office is one thing, but I’m not breaking into someone’s house. How the hell would we explain that one away? With an office, you can at least say you took a wrong turn at the elevator.”
“I didn’t know you were such a scaredy-cat, Jack.”
I stiffen. “I’m not, but if we get caught, I can’t exactly say, ‘sorry, I got lost on the way to the pool.’”
Zelda shrugs. “We could. They have one.”
“Zelda, please be serious about this. We cannot enter his parents’ house and search it for something we aren’t even sure is there.”
“It’s there, I promise.”
She seems convinced, but I’m not. “How do you propose we do it?”
“We dress in disguises again. I know! We can even rent a van.”
“Why do we need a van?”
“Please trust me.”
Something tells me this is one time I shouldn’t. Her ideas keep getting wackier and wackier. She must really be panicked. “I—”
She stands. “Come on. We have lots to do if we’re going to break into a house today.”
