Reagan left the suffocating tension of the private room and headed straight for the elevators after he had made an agreement with both his father and Sarah's father.
His jaw was set, his mind racing with Sarah's name still ringing in his ears. Her driver had been waiting outside the ballroom when Reagan stepped out, hurriedly whispering that Sarah hadn't gone home. She was on the 15th floor, at the hotel bar, drowning her fury and humiliation in alcohol.
He went straight to the elevator, and just as Reagan came, he halted.
Standing there, waiting with arms folded and an impatient tap of her heel, was Nancy. Her expression flickered with mild surprise when she saw him approach. But her eyes quickly sharpened, calculating, as though she already knew why he was here.
"Well, isn't this interesting?" Nancy drawled, her painted lips curving into a smirk. "Heading to the bar too? What a coincidence…"
