Millie

Xavier followed me to the bathroom, both of us scanning the exits—him for protection and me for escape. I was grateful Tonya hadn't volunteered to escort me. Mostly because she terrified me, but also because the plan taking shape in my mind wouldn't have worked with another woman. Not unless I was willing to incapacitate her in the bathroom, and it was unlikely Lochlan hired anyone I could win against without help.

"Wait," I said, putting my hand against his chest when he made to follow me into the bathroom. "You're not coming in here with me."

"I absolutely am."

"I very much doubt anyone is hiding in here on the off chance I might need to pee while I'm here."

"Mr. Sloan gave me orders."

I smiled and stepped out of the doorway as a woman came out of the restroom. Lowering my voice, I said, "Don't you think you'll draw more attention if you come into the women's bathroom with me—"

"Hon, it's New York. No one would bat an eyelash."

"Fine. But it's not going to be an in and out situation. I'm on my period—"

"I got a wife."

"That's lovely for you," I murmured, wondering if I could take him out if I caught him by surprise. Because this was going nowhere. "But I have business to take care of that I don't really want a man present for."

Xavier crossed his arms and raised a single, suspicious blond brow. "You planning on changing your tampon in the middle of the bathroom? No, then I ain't gonna see nothing. So let's get in there and get this taken care of so I can get back to Mr. Sloan."

"Listen. You're not going in there with me."

"We don't have all day. Looks like you don't gotta go so bad."

Xavier's refusal to cooperate left me with three options. Give in—not happening. Cause a scene—which would draw Lachlan's attention and be counterproductive. Or total embarrassment. Number three it was... or rather number two.

"I have to, you know..."

"What?"

I tugged on my hair and looked at the ceiling. There was no acting involved. I really didn't want to say this. Marcus would die if he could see me right now.

"I need to shit, okay? Like not a ladylike little poo. Full on period shits. You will not come back from that if you're in there when it happens."

Xavier's pasty complexion turned green. Looks like I'd read him correctly after all. There were some men who could handle anything except for women doing women's things.

"Fine. But I'm gonna check before you get in there."

"That's fine," I agreed, silently cheering.

As he said, not a single woman looked twice as he walked around the five stall bathroom. He made me wait until each of the closed stalls had been emptied so he could verify it wasn't a dangerous mobster. Then he slipped out, promising to wait outside the door.

"Overprotective boyfriend?" One girl asked sympathetically as she touched up her lipstick in the mirror.

"Oh my gosh, yes. He's ridiculous."

After a shared look of female solidarity, I went into the biggest stall and immediately stripped, swapping the jeans and sweater for a fawn colored bodycon dress that hit mid-thigh. I topped it off with a thin, burned orange cardigan. A duster jacket would have completed the look better than the cardigan, but while my purse was large, it wasn't bottomless. And I had to fit a wig in there too.

The old clothes went into the purse, and I went to the counter with the large mirror to put on the bob length, dark brown wig. Five minutes later, I'd done a decent job reshaping my features with a small makeup kit.

The woman in the mirror stared at me with sad eyes. This morning, I'd packed the escape kit fully prepared to use it, but after a pleasant day with Lochlan, I'd almost allowed myself to believe I could stay. That we could be normal. Maybe even explore the chemistry between us, but the moment Tonya and Xavier approached, the illusion was shattered. I had to disappear.

"Everything okay in there?" Xavier asked.

"All good," I said, darting out of view as six women entered the bathroom. Five went into the stalls while the sixth girl waited her turn. I'd planned on trying to exit with them, but another idea formed in my mind while I studied the girl.

"Can I ask you a favor?"

"I don't have a tampon," she said, not looking up from her phone while she toyed with her blonde hair.

"Well, I don't need one, but you look like you could use a Berkin bag."

That got her attention. She jerked her head up and stared at me. I dangled the purse before her, and she grabbed it with two hands, nearly moaning when she felt the quality of the material.

"So that favor?"

"Anything," she promised.

"Did you see that man waiting outside the door?"

She nodded, eyes on the bag. "I broke up with him over lunch, and he keeps wanting to talk about it. I just want to leave."

A toilet flushed, and one of her friends walked out. She'd clearly been listening because she looked at the bag with envy, and responded, "Men. Their egos are so fragile."

"Right." I pulled out my jeans—one of the expensive pairs Anna purchased for me. This escape was painful. "Since you and I are both kind of the same size and blonde, I was hoping you'd put my clothes on and take my bag. You'd distract him long enough that I could get away."

The rest of the women came out of their stalls. Three looked excited, but the older woman in the group looked skeptical.

"That sounds risky."

"Oh, he's not dangerous," I promised. "It's not like that. He's just annoying me."

My decoy hooked the purse over her arm, her mind clearly already made up. "Did he buy all this for you?"

The older woman rolled her eyes. "Abby."

One of her friends spoke up. "Oh my gosh, are you a sugar baby?"

I mimed zipping my lips, and then Xavier delivered a perfectly timed knock on the door. "Millie. Come on."

Five minutes later, I hovered behind the women as they prepared to leave. Abby's resemblance to me in my clothes, the red scarf wound around her neck was fairly striking, and possibly enough to confuse Xavier who had only recently met me. They went out together with me trailing in the back, so the numbers added up. I had no doubt Xavier knew exactly how many women were in the bathroom.

"Millie, wait up," Xavier called out, elbowing one girl out of the way with a muttered apology while he put his hand on Abby's back and steered her toward the patio seating. Where Lochlan waited.

Sending out a mental thank you, I navigated through the crowded restaurant and left through the opposite side, and even though it pained me to do it, I shot a text message to Marcus, asking him to meet with me as soon as possible. I had enough cash to find somewhere to sleep for a few days, but I would need his help to get a new identity. Millie Gordon had to become like Marianna Reed—a ghost.

I just hoped my memory didn't haunt Lochlan the way hers did.