“All right,” I say, apparently shocking her completely—she startles, her eyes widening and losing that dreamy quality. “I’ll bite. But if we get to Tonya von Meller’s house and I don’t like the plan, I’m throwing you under the bus.” She recovers quickly from her surprise, batting her eyelashes and giving me a cheeky grin. “I’m too pretty to throw under a bus—” “Hardly,” I cut her off with a snort of laughter.
