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Chapter 416
Chapter 416:
He stared blankly over her head, out through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the glittering New York skyline.
He was holding a woman he could barely stand to look at.
And his chest was completely hollow, consumed by the memory of the woman who had just told him to go to hell.
The atmosphere inside the VIP lounge of Bergdorf Goodman was a world away from the suffocating tension of Compton Manor.
Golden afternoon sunlight poured through the massive windows overlooking Fifth Avenue. The air smelled of expensive perfume and fresh espresso. June sat on a plush velvet sofa, a crystal flute of champagne on the table in front of her, the floor around her feet covered in thick, glossy shopping bags.
She looked relaxed. The dark circles under her eyes were fading.
This was a rare outing with Sloane Harper, an acquaintance who had grown considerably closer through their shared, intense dislike of Alycia Beasley — which made for a perfectly reasonable excuse for some much-needed retail therapy.
Sloane took a sip of her champagne and crossed her legs with an air of casual elegance.
“Speaking of which,” Sloane said, her tone light and breezy, “my cousin Easton has been impossible to talk to since that motorcycle incident. He just keeps staring at his phone and asking whether I’ve heard from you p>
June was holding a heavy diamond earring up to the light.
Her fingers froze for a fraction of a second.
𝘞𝘩𝗮t 𝗲𝘷er𝘺𝘰n𝖾 𝗂𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗮di𝗻𝗴 𝗼n
She lowered her hand slowly and set the earring back onto the velvet tray with practiced calm.
“Mr. Hahn is an exceptional lawyer,” June said smoothly. “Highly professional, efficient, and completely reliable p>
It was a flawless, impenetrable wall of corporate praise.
But Sloane had sharp instincts when it came to these things. She caught the tiny, almost invisible flicker of warmth in June’s dark eyes.
She leaned forward, a wicked smirk on her lips.
“Just professional?” Sloane teased, raising an eyebrow. “I heard it was more than a legal consultation. How is the rabbit doing, by the way p>
June’s grip on her champagne flute tightened for a fraction of a second. She looked away, watching the bubbles rise in her glass.
“That was just to blow off some steam,” she said, her voice slightly tighter than before.
Sloane noted the hit with quiet satisfaction and smoothly shifted her approach. She leaned back and let out a loud, dramatic sigh.
“Honestly, my cousin is a complete machine,” Sloane complained, waving her hand. “Cold as a block of ice. I have never, in my entire life, seen him pay this much attention to a woman p>
June kept her eyes on her glass, but she was listening to every word.
“Did you know,” Sloane added, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “that after he used his body to shield you from the rain that night, he went home and ran a fever of 102 degrees p>
June’s head snapped up.