My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 617

Across town.

Andrew Lane’s assistant glanced up at him, then at the phone in his hand.

From the phone’s speaker came the sound of a trending video—the latest rumors about Ryan Cox.

The assistant had seen quite a few of these clips himself; the buzz was impossible to miss. He could only shake his head, inwardly marveling at how Ryan Cox had clearly crossed the wrong people.

The video looped again. Unable to hold back, the assistant asked, “Mr. Lane, is there anything you need me to do?”

Andrew Lane lifted his gaze, shutting off his phone. “This has gotten loud. Has the Bureau shown any sign of moving yet?”

The assistant shook his head. “No, sir. Kevin Lane gave strict orders—no one over there dares make a move. I think they’re all just waiting for things to die down, then they’ll probably issue some half-hearted statement.”

Andrew Lane grunted. “Got it.”

“Set up a meeting with Mr. Michel. Make it tonight at six.”

“Mr. Michel?” The assistant hesitated. “But what about Kevin Lane—?”

Andrew Lane’s voice dropped, leaving no room for argument. “Doesn’t matter. Set the meeting.”

The assistant nodded. “Understood.”

He left, nerves still on edge.

6:00 p.m.

Andrew Lane reached across the table and shook hands with the middle-aged man opposite him, his posture calm and self-assured, his tone light. “Mr. Michel. Been a long time.”

Mr. Michel grinned and shook his hand warmly. “Mr. Lane, you’re a busy man. It’s not easy to catch you these days. We should make the most of tonight.”

Andrew Lane’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Absolutely.”

He raised his glass in a toast. “To you, Mr. Michel.”

Mr. Michel quickly lifted his own glass. “To you as well, Mr. Lane.”

They both downed their drinks in one go.

The assistant immediately pulled a thick folder from his briefcase.

Andrew Lane took it, while Mr. Michel’s gaze locked on the cover, his eyes lighting up when he caught a glimpse of the title.

Andrew Lane held the file under his arm. “I know you’ve been busy with that East End project lately. As it happens, I can put you in touch with the right people.”

Mr. Michel’s eyes grew even brighter, and he nearly shot out of his seat. “You can?”

Andrew Lane watched him carefully, then slid the file across the table.

Mr. Michel’s gaze was glued to the folder, following it as it moved. He all but snatched it from Andrew Lane’s hand and began flipping through the pages, breath quickening with every sheet.

“Mr. Lane, this—this is…”

He looked up, locking eyes with Andrew Lane.

Andrew Lane folded his hands on the table. “Help me with this small favor, Mr. Michel, and the file is yours.”