The intercom crackled to life, Morgan's voice flowing through the speaker with artificial sweetness.
"Yes?"
"It's Grayson. We need to talk."
A pause, then the door buzzed open. Grayson stepped into the marble-floored lobby, bypassing the concierge with a curt nod, and headed straight for the elevator. He pressed the button for Morgan’s floor, his jaw set as he watched the numbers climb. She had sent him the address of this place while she had been bugging him to see her since the breakup. This was his first time here. Grayson made sure to start the voice recording on his phone.
The doors slid open on her floor. Her door was directly in front of the elevator. Morgan stood waiting at the open doorway, posed deliberately against it. She’d changed from her clinic outfit into something more
