Phoebe's POV
Since I'd arrived with Sergio earlier, my motorcycle was still parked back at the Hale family compound. Getting to the Bailey Mansion meant I'd have to hail a taxi.
But the moment I stepped outside and reached for my phone, a sleek black Luca glided up to the curb.
The driver was Alistair—one of Harold's bodyguards I'd spotted at Bailey Mansion before. The car pulled right up in front of me, and the rear window slid down, revealing Harold with a laptop balanced on his thighs.
"Well, what are the odds, Miss Hale," he said, lifting his gaze from the screen. "Heading somewhere? Need a lift?"
My mouth curved slightly. I was certain he knew exactly where I was headed.
I shot him a knowing look. "What incredible timing."
I'd just informed him I'd be coming to treat Mitchell, so clearly I wasn't going anywhere else.
This whole charade of his—acting like he'd stumbled across me—felt pretty dated.
