Page 52 of Hot Nights in Morocco
“What sort of mission?”
“To put a smile back on your face. Here.” He produces a crumpled white envelope from the back pocket of his shorts and hands it out to me.
“What’s that?”
“An invitation to our wedding. I hope you like the color scheme.”
“Be serious!”
“On second thought…” He moves it just out of reach with an infuriatingly smug look on his face. “If you’re not hung up on Jake, you wouldn’t be interested in this.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I can’t deal with his games tonight. My nerves are fifty shades of shredded already.
“It’s a letter Jake asked me to give to you before he left.”
He what?
Without batting an eyelid, he circles my desk, lifts up the hem of my red T-shirt and tucks the envelope into the waistband of my shorts. “You’re good for him,” he says, his handsome face creasing into a frown. “You don’t take any of his shit.”
I’ve never seen this side of Max before. It’s really quite disarming.
“You should ask Rachel out sometime,” I mumble. “You might find she has the same effect.”
“Oh, I doubt it. She’s far too good for me.” He gives me a quick grin and turns to leave.
“What about Cassie? Does this mean heisn’tholed up in some Marrakech shag palace with her?”
“Read the letter and all will be revealed, or so I’m told. I’ll see you tomorrow.Muchlater tomorrow, if my brother plays his cards right. Your ass looks even more amazing in those shorts by the way.”
“Good-bye, Max.”
I turn the envelope over in my hands but I don’t make any move to open it.
“What’s that?” asks Rachel materializing next to me in a T-shirt five sizes too big for her and a waft of sweet-smelling chemicals.
“Sellotape for the brokenhearted,” I say cryptically, stuffing it into the front pocket of my laptop bag. “How did the spray tan go?”
“I’ll find out tomorrow. If you don’t see me for the rest of the week, you’ll know why.”
“Are you ready to leave?”
“Not yet, but you go on. Tell the driver to come back for me later.”
“Are you sure?”
Rachel blushes. “I just bumped into Max in the hallway. He’s hanging around for a bit, so I might do the same.”
Another car crash is slowly unfolding here, but who am I to judge?
I’m already upside down and burning over mine.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I cast my eye over the parking lot but there’s no sign of our driver. Twilight is waning, the shadows have multiplied, and a shroud of darkness is threatening the vast, empty space.
I stand on the studio steps, mentally rolling my eyes and balling my fists. I bet the guy’s getting tanked up in the hotel bar already. I hope he’s had the good foresight to order me a quadruple.
“Miss Winters?”
