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Connor, Sebastian, and Johnny didn’t get back until almost 7 o’clock. Johnny was wary, jumping at shadows.

“Damn, you would not believe how many people came rushing up, getting in Connor’s face and snapping pictures,” he said wearily. “It was a nightmare. Nobody bothered you up here, though, right?”

Sebastian was jubilant, like a conquering king – or maybe the power behind the throne after a successful campaign.

“Who is a genius?” he beamed, his arms outspread, inviting the adulation of an invisible crowd. “Who snatched victory from the jaws, not just of defeat, but utter disaster? Whose media strategy crushed that backstabbing skank and that evil old son-of-a-bitch? Moi, that’s who. Thank you. Thank you.”

Then he frowned at me in my robe. “Good God, aren’t you ever going to get dressed?”

Connor was smiling when he walked through the door, which relieved some of my tension.

He came over and immediately hugged me, pulling me close, his arms wrapped tight around me. My fear ebbed away,