CLAIRE

"I'm sorry," I managed to say, my hand still on the door. "Who are you?"

The man smiled, completely unbothered by my confusion. "Blake," he said, as if that explained everything. "Blake Hartley."

The name meant nothing to me. "Okay," I replied slowly. "And you're here because?"

"To see Julian," Blake said simply. "I just flew in from London this morning."

"Julian isn't here," I pointed out, still standing near the door.

"I figured that out about twenty minutes ago," Blake admitted. "But your doorman remembered me from years ago, so he let me up."

That explained how he got in, at least. "You could have called," I suggested....