“He doesn’t end up with either of them?”
Her face lights at my question. She’s as surprised as I am that I asked, “He has nothing in common with either woman. They have nothing to talk about. Nothing to experience together. It’s all lust and sneaking around. He’s starting to realize the woman who works in the kitchen can match wits with him and make him laugh. And there is something much more appealing to him about that. But their love can never be.”
“Seriously? You really fall for all this stuff?”
“She’s a commoner. He’s royalty. Star-crossed lovers.”
I can’t ignore the irony of our conversation. Savannah leans back and sighs at the drama. The deliciousness of it. When her back arches her breasts perk up, and I rake my eyes across their perfection. She could be the kitchen worker. The cougar. I wouldn’t care. I’d make her purr with pleasure.
“And that’s a good book to you?”
“You probably read nonfiction business junk all day, right?”
“As opposed to fictional fantasies about sex? I don’t get the appeal. Why not just have great sex?”
“When I want to escape, these are my getaway cars. Absolutely. It’s a fantasy. A place to go when circumstances keep me from being anywhere else. But now my life is different. I can go anywhere. And I intend to. But I’m taking my books with me.”
My mind flashes to what Savannah may be running from. I feel an impulse to crush anyone or anything that might be out to hurt her.
“What do you do when you want a break?” She tilts her head and looks at me with intensity.
I fuck a woman until she quivers in my arms. I always find that a nice escape.
“Maybe you should give one of these books a try. I’m happy to lend it to you. You could learn something maybe.”
I chuckle and flatten my tie against my chest. “I could teach that author a thing or two, and she’d have a hell of a lot more to write about when I was done with her. One night and she’d have enough lessons for ten more books.”
“I doubt that.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Her assertion makes me lean in across my desk.
I take the challenge seriously. “Trust me, there is nothing someone behind a keyboard could come up with that compares to what I could do. The next book wouldn’t be suitable for sale. They’d ban it. They’d have to burn it to save the women of the world who clutch their pearls at such scandalous things. The author would never be the same.”
Savannah snorts out a laugh. She is a mystery to me.
“I’m telling you the author wouldn’t be interested.”
I puff up my chest and smile wide enough for the dimple in my cheek to show. Something I’m certain I haven’t done since meeting her. “And I’m telling you—”
“The author is Thomas Watterson. I think his wife would prefer he thwart your advances.”
I snap my lips shut and mentally score a point for her. She got me.
“So you want to borrow it? Next time you’re feeling stressed?” Her smile is one of victory.
“I never need a break. I’m doing exactly what I want to do. Stress is all part of the fun.”
“You’re telling me that’s your happy face?” She feigns concern. “I’d hate to see you angry.”
“If you keep talking you just might.”
She smirks. Unafraid. Silly. Completely at peace with sleeping in a chair in a stranger’s office and reading a book that sounds outlandish all while eating some weird sugary pastry that looks like it’s made for a ten-year-old. And yet I’m the one who can’t stop watching her.
The longer she’s here, the deeper the mystery of Savannah grows. A rabbit hole I am determined not to fall down.
“I’ll go back to my book.” Settling into the chair, she pulls the book over her face, but I can see her eyes still peeking over. Fixed on me.
“Reading?” I shake my head and our eyes stay locked.
She nods. Still clearly not reading. “Just getting to the best part.” Her brows rise, and I know she’s smiling again. At my expense. “It’s getting spicy now. The hunk is really something in this one. Sullen but sexy. The scowl really works for him.” She’s still peeking at me, and I’ve got a raging hard-on now. It would take almost nothing to come. A brush of her body on mine, the clutching of my hands on her small hips.
Two people on the phone call I’ve forgotten about begin barking loudly at each other and it pulls me back to what I’m supposed to be doing. Thank goodness for a mute button.
I hear her giggle again, but I don’t look up. I don’t even glance at her. Because I’ll run the risk of never looking away.
CHAPTER FIVE
Brice
I lock down everything in my office. Papers all put away. I don’t know if Savannah is a snoop or if she could even make sense of these boring documents, but I don’t want to find out the hard way I should have hidden them.
She’s been asleep for three hours. Out cold. Still curled up in the oversized chair. She fell asleep reading and dropped the book unceremoniously onto the floor next to her. I stand and look her over. She’s petite but strong. Her skin looks like the expensive silk the designers in one of our oceanfront homes selected for the window treatments. I’m compelled to run a finger over her exposed neck. But of course, I don’t.
The office is cool so I reach for her coat to cover her. I suddenly remember the smell and wonder if it’s worth the risk of getting more of that stink on me. Instead I slip out of my suit jacket and lay it over her. Savannah stirs with a tiny sigh and I hold my breath. She coos herself back to sleep and I slip out.
I make a phone call I had hoped I wouldn’t have to.
“Hello. Sir?”
“Bring the car around.” I’m curt but I have my reasons.
“Uh, sir what do you mean?”
“Well Charles, you’ve been following me around Boston for the last month. You can drop the charade. Just have a car out front. You’ll need to give someone a ride.”
“I don’t know what you’re talk—”
“Charles. Seriously. I’ve spotted you at least ten times. I know my father would not be able to sleep a wink if he thought I was parading around Boston without at least one bodyguard. Have the car out front. You’ll be driving a young woman to the bank when she’s ready.”
“A woman?”
“Yes Charles, pretty hair, boobs, long eyelashes. A woman. You are familiar with them?”
“Very.” Charles laughs. “I just didn’t realize you had company.”
“Trust me, it’s not at all like that. You’ll understand when you see her. Or smell her. She just crashed into my life a few hours ago, and I’ll feel better knowing she’s safely out of it.”
“Is she some kind of threat?” His voice is sharp and I consider the question. She couldn’t kill me but she could derail my plans.
“No. She’s harmless. Just a handful. Never stops talking. Has an answer for everything. The answers just don’t make any damn sense. We were stuck in the elevator together when the power went out.”
“I see. Well, I’ll make sure she gets to her destination.”
“Actually, I’ll need a bit more than that.” I look back into my office before I step onto the elevator and lower my voice. “I need you to keep her busy for a while. I want time to look into something. Who she’s here to meet. Something isn’t right, and I know the second she finishes at the bank she’ll be back in this building getting into who knows what.”
“Because you’re trying to get rid of her?” His sarcasm does not go unnoticed.
“I’d like to make sure she’s not going to turn up at my office when whatever scheme she’s into falls apart. Something isn’t right.”
“It sounds like she’s lucky you were in the elevator. I’ll keep her busy. For how long?”
“I can’t imagine it’ll take me long to track down the information I’m looking for. I’ll send you a text when the time is right.”
&nb
sp; “Yes, sir.”
“Be discreet. She doesn’t need to know anything about me. She knows me as Brice and nothing more. I’m just a businessman. I can only imagine the questions she’s going to hit you with tomorrow.”
“I’m trained in seven of the most effective kinds of interrogation. I have endured some of the world’s most intense torture techniques. She won’t get a thing out of me.” Charles, always dutiful.
“I don’t doubt your skill. I’m not sure there’s any training in the world to prepare you for Savannah.”
“She’s up there with you now? Maybe I need to come assess the situation.” I can hear him chuckling.
“Laugh all you want. You’re the one who’s going to be trying to get the smell of fish and gasoline out of your car for a week.”
“I’ve had worse, driving royals around after parties. But no parties for you? You’re heading back across the street. That’s an odd place you’re staying. It took me a while to sort out what exactly was going on there. It’s sort of a . . .”
“A sausage factory. Dudes everywhere. I know. It was intentional.”
“Something else you want to tell me then? Know that I’ll love you no matter what. I’m very open-minded.”
“Did my father pay you extra to start your stand-up comedy career too? No. I’m here for a reason. I’m limiting my distractions. Or I was. Until Savannah.”
“Stuck in an elevator. Sounds serendipitous.”
“Much closer to involuntary imprisonment. I was close to prying the doors open with my bare hands and climbing up the elevator shaft. It didn’t make for a good night of work. I just need to know Savannah gets where she’s supposed to this morning.”
“Because she’s a pain. Never stops talking? Stubborn?”
“Exactly.”
“Yeah.” He laughs again. “Exactly what I remember thinking about my wife when we met.”
CHAPTER SIX
Savannah
I wake with a start. Did I just snore myself awake? Did anyone hear me?
Every morning I can remember I’ve woken up in one house. I never did sleepovers or vacation homes. So before my eyes open, my heart knows something is very different. There’s a warm, amazing smelling suit coat covering me like a blanket. I’m turned awkwardly in the chair, but I’ve nodded off in plenty of chairs in my day. You get used to it when you’re someone’s primary caretaker.
I look around the unfamiliar space of Brice’s office as I blink away the sleep. Everything about last night floods back to me. My stolen purse. The meeting I missed. The elevator getting stuck. Brice. His pecs. The size of his very capable looking hands. The dimple he flashed the one time he smiled.
Brice isn’t behind his desk and the ache I feel is impossible to ignore. Last night was a disaster. He was intolerable. Yet I had hoped he’d still be here. I did quite enough to disrupt his night. He probably crept out of here on tiptoes just to get away.
Checking my watch, I’m disappointed it’s only seven thirty. Jana didn’t return my call as far as I know, and I don’t remember what her office hours are. The bank opens in half an hour.
I pull on my beat-up sneakers and try to make myself look moderately decent. If that woman hadn’t given me five dollars yesterday, she sure as hell would if she caught sight of me today. When I stand to leave a small note falls off me. It’s a slip of paper folded in half that must have been on top of my coat.
There is a black town car downstairs that will take you to the bank. He will not let you leave otherwise so just take the ride. Eat something that doesn’t come wrapped in tin foil. Brice.
There is something about the way he orders me around that is equal parts infuriating and sexy. If he’d bent me over his desk last night I’ve have folded quicker than a stack of sweaters at the mall.
My nipples perk up at the thought of it. He’s not even in the room and my body is responding to him.
I consider my options. A nice warm town car would make the morning easier. The bank is important, but not nearly as important as letting Jana know I’m still interested in her services.
I take out her phone number that I scratched down last night and dial from Brice’s desk phone. He’s not here to ask permission this time. But I still feel sheepish.
“Hello?”
“Jana,” I say with far too much enthusiasm. “It’s Savannah Barre.”
“My no-show?” Her voice is cool and formal but not in a snooty way. She’s sure of herself and I love that.
“I’m so sorry. I will fill you in on all the crazy details when we meet. My purse was stolen and I was stranded. I’m in the building though if you can meet with me now.”
“I won’t be in until ten, but I can make a little time for you then.” She sounds concerned, as though I’m stringing her along. Cautious, like a woman made wise by years in the city.
“I will be there. Again I am so sorry about last night. Once you hear the story you’ll totally understand. It was crazy. I’m going to the bank now so I can get everything squared away. But I’ll be to you by ten.”
“Do you have a way to get there? You said you were stranded.”
“Apparently”—I snicker thinking of Brice and the car he’s ordered for me—“this man I met last night while we were trapped in the elevator has a car service downstairs waiting for me.”
“What?” More concern. I can’t blame her. “What man?”
“Yeah, it was a comedy of errors last night. You know the elevator in your building tried to kill me. They should get that thing fixed.”
“I’d be more worried about the man whose car you’re about to get into than the elevator. Statistics are much more staggering for that scenario than death in an elevator.” There’s a mild hint of humor in her voice, but it’s still guarded. The gatekeeping process for even having contact with Jana is nearly cult-like in its secrecy. I jumped through every hoop. Followed every direction. All the way up until I missed my appointment yesterday. Her services are a closely guarded secret, and now I’m a mystery to her again. A risk.
“No, Brice is great; I’m sure whoever is driving the car is from a reputable company. And really the story is quite funny. When I see you at ten you’ll be doubled over laughing.” A lump grows in my throat as I consider the possibility she might change her mind about working with me.
“Just be here at ten and we’ll regroup.” A wave of relief washes over me.
“See you then.”
I hang up the phone and do a little end zone victory dance, even though I’m still miles from anything that resembles a touchdown. I slip my coat on and toss my bag over my shoulder. Jana’s concern for me isn’t completely misguided. I could be walking into a dangerous situation.
There’s a fancy pen on the desk. It’s steel and sturdy. It has a presence of its own, if that’s possible for a writing utensil. Not surprising considering its owner. Of course his pen would be substantial.
I’m not a thief. That should be the end of that sentence. No but. BUT, let’s just say this driver is someone to be concerned about. This pen would make a great tool to stab an eye out.
Maybe a good jab to the junk?
I pick it up and convince myself I’ll return it after I meet with Jana later this morning. Or if things go badly, Brice can retrieve it from the eye socket of his driver.
I take the thirty flights of stairs down. Still determined not to tempt fate with the elevator. Bad idea.
As I reach the curb I’m winded, almost doubled over as I try to catch my breath. My side is cramped. I look like I’m dying.
“Miss Savannah?” A large man with a shaved head and bulbous nose stands a foot from me. His suit, his tie, and chauffeur hat are all a crisp black. The white shirt beneath is starched as rigid as the man’s back. “Are you all right?”
“I took the stairs,” I gasp out, clutching at his arm to steady myself. He tenses under my grip but not out of discomfort. It’s his attempt to be as sturdy as possible for me. “I might rather die in the e
levator than die of a heart attack right now.”
“No chance of that, ma’am. You’re under my care. I don’t allow people to die. It’s bad for business.”
“Under your care?” I take another gulp of air and eye him.
He is unbothered by my scrutiny. “My name is Charles. I’ve been hired to take you where you need to go this morning. There is cold sparkling or flat spring water in the car. Please help yourself.”
“And you’ll be driving me where I want to go?”
“Yes.”
“Which is?” My test is rudimentary but it’s all I have. He might slip and say to an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town and then I’ll know to stab him with Brice’s pen.
“The bank. Then perhaps to get something to eat. Or a place to stay?”
“The bank, yes. My apartment is on the other side of town. I won’t be able to make it there this time of the morning and still make my meeting. Maybe I can find somewhere around here to change and shower,” I say in an oddly regal way for no apparent reason other than I’m awkward as hell.
“We’ll work that all out. Shall we go then?” He gestures toward the car politely. He gets suddenly all ceremonial and formal. It suits him. Unlike me who just did a half curtsy like an idiot.
To his credit Charles offers me a small obedient kind of smile as he gestures again for me to head for the car. I don’t. I’m not ready.
“Are you going to murder me?”
“Excuse me?” His chin folds in on itself as he looks down at me. I take a little pride in the fact that I’ve rattled him. He seems unflappable, yet I have flapped him. I make a note to myself not to ever say that out loud to anyone.
“I appreciate the ride but I don’t know you, and I’m just wondering if you have a penchant for murder?”
The Bachelor Towers: Books 1-3 Page 39