Friday Night. 10:00 PM. Dennison Gala.
Vanessa slipped away from the main ballroom, champagne flute in hand, designer dress swishing around her legs.
The west wing library was empty—she'd made sure of that by bribing one of the event coordinators to keep this area closed.
She checked her watch. 10:00 PM exactly.
The door opened.
Damian Cross stepped inside, closing it behind him.
"Vanessa," he said, voice smooth. "I have to admit, I'm curious. What proposition could possibly require this much secrecy?"
Vanessa set down her champagne and turned to face him fully.
"I want Asher Quinn-Park out of Kael Everhart's life. And I think you want the same thing."
Damian's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes.
"Go on," he said.
"I've seen the way you watch him. At business events. At company gatherings. You want him."
"That's quite an accusation."
"It's not an accusation. It's an observation. And a potential solution to both our problems."
