it. Traffic slowed to a stop three blocks from the parking garage where they planned to meet Geoff. Hop let out a string of curse words that made Jessica’s mouth drop open; apparently she didn’t know that even old people could swear too.
“Text him and let him know,” Alexis said.
Liv hammered out a message to Geoff and bit her lip waiting for a response. It wasn’t good.
If I’m not inside in fifteen minutes, we’re toast.
Liv turned around in her seat. “Hand me the folders.”
“What?” Alexis said. “Why?”
“I’m getting out here. You guys park and meet me there.”
Alexis shook her head as Hop cursed again. This time at her. “No way,” Alexis said. “We do this together.”
“We are doing it together, but Geoff needs these now.”
Hop must’ve realized there was no other way, so he braked hard. “Go fast.”
Alexis shoved the folders through the opening between the front seats. Liv gathered them up and threw open her door. Dodging traffic, she jogged to the sidewalk, which was teeming with tourists.
Liv clutched the folders to her chest and started to run.
Three blocks. She just had to make it three blocks. And then she could prove this was all worth it.
“You didn’t check the fucking traffic?”
Mack jerked his eyes from the road to Malcolm, who almost never swore. “I’ve been a little busy,” Mack snapped.
Traffic around Savoy was a nightmare of stop-and-go, but mostly stop.
The van hadn’t moved in three full minutes. Mack dragged a hand down his jaw. “I have to get to Liv.”
“Put it in park,” Malcolm ordered.
Mack did a double take. “What? Why?”
“Because I’m going to drive. You just get out and go.”
Mack shoved the ancient gear stick into park. He threw open his door and jumped out as Malcolm slid behind the wheel. He wove through the cars stopped in both directions but heard the creak of the van door behind him. He turned just in time to see the Russian leap out.
“What are you doing?” Mack yelled.
The Russian vaulted over the hood of a car and came to a stop on the sidewalk. “Because it’s grand gesture,” he said.
Mack grinned and patted his shoulder. “And we always run for grand gesture.”
Three blocks. He just had to make it three blocks. And then he could prove to her he was worth it.
Oh God, Liv hated running. Like, hated it. All those people who ran for pleasure and did marathons and stuff, she’d never understand them. Never. Because every slap of her shoes against the pavement was torture, especially since she couldn’t move her arms.
But it would be worth it. Geoff would switch the folders. Reporters would read the truth about Royce. And then she would run any distance, any length of time, to get to Braden and tell him everything she should have said long before now.
One. More. Block.
Liv skidded around the corner. The parking ramp was in sight. Finally. Sweat ran down her back. Her heart pounded in her ears, eclipsed only by her labored breaths.
“LIV!”
She skidded and spun. She had to be hallucinating from lack of oxygen, because that sounded like—
It was. There he was. Running toward her. Arms pumping, legs sprinting, leaping small curbs in a single bound.
He slid to a stop a foot away from her.
And the only thing she could think to do was grin and say, “Braden-Fucking-McRae.”
Of all the things Liv could’ve said when she saw him, that was by far the best.
Mack didn’t think. Not when he ate the distance between them. Not when he cupped her face and kissed her until neither could breathe. Not when he tugged her against his chest.
“God, Liv. I’m so sorry.”
She pulled away. “What are you doing here?”
“Thea told us. I’m so proud of you.”
She shook her head and squeezed an armful of folders to her chest. “I have so much I need to say to you, but there’s no time. I have to get these to Geoff.”
Mack reached for them. “Give them to me. Where we are going?”
“The parking ramp. Fourth floor.”
He followed her pointing finger and then wrapped her hand inside his free one. “Let’s go.”
Behind them, his footsteps slapping the sidewalk in time with theirs, the Russian let out a whoop.
“I love grand gesture!”
“Where have you been?” Geoff ducked out from behind a concrete column, sweat circles darkening the underarms of his shirt.
Liv bent at the waist and panted. “Traffic.”
“Here,” Mack said, shoving the folders at him.
Geoff took them and spun. “Meet Riya at the kitchen door in five minutes.”