68

He ruins family businesses for fun.

How pathetic.

Of course he’s presenting at a conference called Mind Masters. This is right up his pretentious alley. He thinks he is the mind master . . . what a joke.

I stand. “Excuse me,” I whisper to the person next to me. I begin to shuffle past the people in my row as they sit in their seats.

“Claire Anderson,” he calls from the stage.

My horrified eyes meet his.

“Sit back down.”

“I . . .” I take another step toward the exit.

“Claire,” he warns.

I glance around at the 120 pairs of eyes fixed firmly on me and then back up at him.

“I said sit. Back. Down.”

c

“Mr. Miles.”

He turns back toward me.

“I believe it was you that moaned my name first,” I say sweetly.

He rolls his eyes. “That’s debatable.” The door clicks closed behind him, and I smile goofily up at the ceiling.

That was . . . surprisingly fun.

Chapter 6

I wake with a jump and notice it’s light—too light for early morning.

Huh?

I scramble for my phone on the nightstand: 8:45 a.m.

What the