I try to discern her next move now, or, rather, the move she predicts I’ll make. She’s letting me off too easy, which means she’s not really letting me off at all. She wants me to ask her what she means to do with Alayna, and since that’s what she wants, it’s the one question I can’t ask. Yet it’s the one burning at me most.

On top of what I know she wants me to do, I have my own agenda: Whatever she has planned, I have to stop her. It’s not an altruistic motive—it goes back to the not wanting to share. I don’t want Celia to do anything to Alayna Withers because I want her all to myself. What I want her for has yet to be determined. I don’t have any urge to play the woman. But I yearn to connect with her in some way and whatever that way is, it’s not to include Celia.

So I have my work cut out for me in how I respond to my old friend. Terminate her plans without seeming to care what they are. I sit back in my chair and meet her eyes. “I’m out of the game, Celia. You know this. When will you accept that?”

I’m practiced in remaining aloof even when high stakes are on the line. I’ve often wondered if I could pass a polygraph test without being completely honest. I don’t intend to ever be in the position to find out, but it is a curiosity of mine.

Celia laughs. “I’ll never accept it, Hudson. I’d have to believe that people could change, and I don’t believe that. Not fundamentally. Sooner or later you’ll realize that it’s killing you. You thrive on your experiments. They gave you reason to live. What else could replace that?”

I’ve asked myself that same question since I left the game. I’ve searched for replacements in the best and worst of places—work, exercise, sex, alcohol. Nothing has yet to satisfy me in the way that I need, but I’m not ready to give up looking.

I won’t share that with Celia. “Life replaces it, Ceeley. Sooner or later you grow up. Even the people with enough money not to. Even us.”

“Huh. You sound even more like Alayna Withers than I thought.”

Here’s where I slip. I make my grand mistake and I know it before I start speaking and yet I can’t stop myself. “What do you mean?”

Celia’s eyes light up and I understand exactly why. Just like that, I’ve shown my interest. I’m exposed and there’s nothing I can do to take it back. She’s won. I try to convince myself it’s a small victory, but without being aware of exactly where my disclosure will take me, I already know that it’s not small at all.

“If you’d read the file,” she says calmly, “you’d know.”

So I’m stuck. Either I prod her to tell me or I ask for the file back. Both will expose my intrigue further.

Or I could ask her to leave. If I do, I’ll have to let it all go. Forget my own agenda. Forget the woman with the brown eyes and the hold she has on me.

That hold, though, is unyielding. I can’t let Alayna Withers go just yet. And if I usher Celia out, I will lose my chance to be privy to her plans. I’ve lost no matter what. Now I have to regain ground, take control of the situation.

I rise and head toward the elevator that goes only to my private loft, offering Celia a one-word directive as I do. “Upstairs.” I don’t look to see if she follows me. I know she will and sure enough, she slips in beside me just before the doors close.

“Just like old times,” she mutters under her breath.

I swallow my disgust. It feels directed at her, but it’s actually for me. It sickens me that I’m here again, that we’re sneaking away to discuss matters that have nothing to do with business. As we arrive at the loft, I attempt to stifle the notion that this simple action means that I’m conceding to anything. “This is an inappropriate conversation for my office. That’s all.”

My attempt was futile.

“Exactly,” she gloats. “Like all the conversations we’ve had here in the past.”

I can taste the disgust again at the back of my throat, its bitter flavor very real in my mouth. Though the loft had been everything from a f**k pad to a place to crash after a long day at work, it was always first and foremost our place—mine and Celia’s. Early in our gaming days, it had become our headquarters. We planned and schemed here. Used it as my address to keep our subjects from invading my personal space.

This isn’t the same. I brought Celia up here to give her the impression she was winning. To lower her guard. It was my play. Only, the memories throw me off-kilter as well. I’m prepared for that. Sometimes you have to lose a pawn to save your king.

I head to the refrigerator. Without asking, I pull out a bottle of water knowing it’s Celia’s beverage of choice. I hand it to her and head to the bar to fix my own drink. This encounter requires Scotch. It’s fortunate my schedule is free for the rest of the day. I quickly down two fingers of amber liquid and turn back to my guest. “Let me have it.”

She sits on the couch. “The file or the story?”

“The file.” I’m not interested in her story. It will be twisted to her liking. I take the file from her outstretched hand. She expects me to sit next to her. I take the armchair instead.

I open the folder again with a steady hand. Inside, I have the shakes. I have no idea how I’ll be impacted by what’s in here, but I fear I’m about to fall down the rabbit’s hole. That’s how much I’m affected by the mere idea of Alayna Withers. Settled into the leather at my back, I begin to read.

My eyes scan through the documents. There’s the usual info—copies of her credit report, her birth certificate, a death certificate for her parents. I don’t spend much time on these, only to note her age—twenty-six until November—and confirmation that she does indeed work at The Sky Launch.

Celia’s quiet at first as I read. She knows when to give me space and when to push, but she can’t help commenting when she sees that I’m looking at a copy of Alayna’s latest paystub. “She’s staying there. At that night club. Even after graduation.”

I won’t ask how she knows this. If it’s true, and I’m sure it is if Celia’s sharing it, I would have found it out too. “Why?” I ask instead.

“She wants to use her MBA to move up in management. Take over the place one day, was my impression.” Celia takes a sip of her water. “I chatted with the owner there when I inquired about doing a redesign for them.”

Celia’s worked fast. I’m impressed.