The Dirty Series 2(149)
I lean back in my seat.
“You know what, Scott? I appreciate the advice.” I chew on the inside of my lip. An idea is forming, another in the crashing ocean of thoughts sweeping back and forth in my mind. “The reason I want to sell off the property is because I’m thinking of relocating.”
The instant the words are out of my mouth, I know it’s the right decision.
Whether all of this ends with Ace by my side or not, I have to get out of New York City.
Scott does a double-take. “Ms. Banks, are you entirely sure?”
“Yes,” I say, my tone broaching no argument. “I’ve become too wrapped up in this city and its…dramas.” I find myself about to say “rumors” but stop short just in time. “It’s time to move on.” The more I say, the truer this becomes. The idea is a spark in my chest. The more I think about it, the more it grows.
Scott’s eyebrows are so high they’re practically disappearing in his hairline, and his mouth works. How many words can he possible need to search for? “Where will you go?”
“I don’t know yet,” I say with a smile and a little shrug. “Seattle? London? I could go wherever I wanted.”
“That—that’s certainly true, Ms. Banks.” He blinks at me, no doubt wondering if I’ll keep him on as my financial adviser if I leave New York City. My account is probably one of his largest. Before he can launch into an attempt to pry that information out of me, I shift in my seat and put one hand on the desk, tapping my fingers lightly on the surface.
Maybe Scott does have a point. I might want to keep the storefront in my possession until I decide where I’m going.
Even a move of this caliber shouldn’t put too much of a dent in my trust fund, but until I’m absolutely sure, it’ll be nice to have an excuse to come back to the city if I need to.
What am I saying? I don’t need an excuse to come back here. All of that is secondary.
It’s possible that even Ace is secondary.
My heart twists at the thought, and I know it isn’t true. No. Ace affects everything. My entire world hinges on whether he’s going to forgive me or not.
Without him, it doesn’t even feel like the earth is spinning on its axis. It’s impossible, ridiculous, I know, but that’s exactly how I feel.
That’s why all of this—the boutique, the apartment—it doesn’t matter so much.
I stand up abruptly. “Scott, I’m going to need you to get in contact with my real estate manager. Do you think, between the two of you, you could work out how much I could expect to get from the sale of the storefront?”
“Ms. Banks….”
“And my apartment?”
His mouth drops open.
“And the backup property on the Upper East Side.”
Scott has gone beet red, but he stands up and offers his hand to shake. If I know him, his mind is already whirling, trying to figure out what number he can come up with that will dissuade me from selling everything I own and moving out of the city.
It makes no difference to me.
The website is being destroyed even as I stand here, and if I’m going to get the hell out of here, I’m going to have to start right now.
Chapter Forty-Six
Ace
Carolyn isn’t at the boutique.
The girl at the counter, Natalie, who blushed when she saw me come into the store and turned an even deeper shade of red when I approached the counter, told me that Carolyn had been gone since yesterday and hadn’t given a reason.
“She sounded…tired?” she said, her hands going to the hem of her shirt, tugging at it just slightly. “Maybe she had a wild night out. I don’t know.”
“Thank you, Natalie,” I said with half a smile, my heart skipping a beat. God forbid she had a wild night with some other man and decided that he was infinitely better than me.
It’s a possibility, I guess.
She’s not at her apartment either, the folder from the safe deposit box clenched in my hands. I’ve been standing outside the door for fifteen minutes, knocking and calling her name, and I must look like a complete jackass. I’m surprised nobody has come to try to stop me. Not that they’ll be able to even if they do try.
I turn around and lean against the door, putting a hand to my forehead. Where the fuck could she possibly be?
If she’s not at work and she’s not at home, I have no idea. I doubt she’s at the Swan in the middle of the afternoon. I could try there next, but I have almost no hope of finding her there.
I text Noah.
She’s not here.
Where to next?
Even Noah has realized how deadly serious this is.
I have no fucking idea.
I have to find her, but I don’t know how. I could call some of the people from my security team, but it will take hours to comb the city and be far more creepy than driving around and looking for her myself. Carolyn hasn’t given me much information about other places that she frequents, other than a couple of restaurants, and I’ve already gone there.