Free Blood Price (The Blankenships Book 5) by Evelyn Glass

make it worse.
     
    After she toweled off, she went into the bedroom to survey the clothes that Claire or Sophia or Christopher or someone had decided would suit her. Alex had said that they would be having lunch with two important people from AEGIS UK, and then he’d likely set her free on the city while he went into the office to see what needed to be done. She thought something comfortable and light would be the best option, but she was scared to death of what she’d find in the bags and boxes.
     
    She was pleasantly surprised. There were a couple pairs of pants in a loose, gaucho style, and in navy blue and charcoal brown. There was a maxi skirt in black. They were all ideal for dressing up or down. There were a few tailored blouses, and a couple of lightweight shells and sweaters in slightly more jewel tone shades. Three luxurious bra and panties sets in different weights and levels of cleavage creation. And, somehow, someone had bought her three T-shirts from the various bands she’d played for Claire during their dance party. They looked vintage, too. Wow.
     
    “Everything to your satisfaction?” Alex asked. He looked amazing just out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. It struck her, not for the first time, how nice his body was. He didn’t have that zero-body fat look of a movie star, but he looked strong, wiry, capable. Gorgeous.
     
    “Actually, yes,” she said. “If we break up, can I keep your sister?”
     
    She wanted to take the words back as soon as she said them. It rocked him all the way down, from what she could see. He stumbled a pace forward before his face settled back into that calm mask he pulled out when things weren’t quite right. “I wish you would, actually,” he said, carefully. “I think I said this before—I can’t remember—but she likes you. I’ve never really brought people home, even when things were a little serious, because Claire—she’s been jerked around enough in her life. Even if things don’t work out with us, knowing that you want to stay friends with her. That means a lot to me.”
     
    She stepped into his arms. He was distant for a moment, and then he clung to her as if he were drowning. “I’m here,” she said, quietly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
     
    “Good,” he said. It was Alex who stepped back. “It’s cool today, but definitely not cold. I think the gray pants and the—is that a vintage T? That must be Claire’s doing.”
     
    “I’m fairly sure,” Zoey said, letting him change the subject, as if she hadn’t seen the gleam on his lower lashes before he surreptitiously wiped it away. “I adore it, but it doesn’t scream business lunch to me.”
     
    “No, this is perfect,” he said, holding the prog rock shirt up to her as if she were a model. “This is exactly what I need to set Peter at ease.”
     
    She narrowed her eyes, half joking. “Are you using me as your token lower-class friend in order to lubricate your business luncheon?”
     
    He narrowed his eyes right back at her. “Am I going to be in trouble if I say yes?”
     
    She laughed, then, unable to stop herself. “It’s entirely possible.”
     
    But she put on the concert tee, and covered it with a lightweight cardigan in a deep wine color, the fronts of it those swoopy asymmetrical designs that she’d always loved and never convinced herself to buy. They had coffee and a quick breakfast in a little nook, rather than the imposing dining room, and she watched the leaves ripple softly in the wind in the park across the way.
     
    Everything about this city was different than New York. There was a gravitas everywhere she looked, from the black cabs to the stately Victorian and Edwardian buildings. The parks were fenced in, and Alex told her that you had to have a key to go into some of them.
     
    They ended up taking a cab to the other side of the city, to the restaurant where Alex had set up the lunch meeting. The hostess seated them on a balcony