“Yes ma’am, owns a penthouse.”
“Figures,” she muttered.
“I’m sorry?”
“Oh, nothing, sorry. Just…I wasn’t expecting such style from him, you know?”
The driver smiled in the rearview mirror. “He treats all his guests with the utmost respect, as I’m sure you will see when we reach his home. Just a few more minutes.”
And, as he said, a few minutes later, they pulled up alongside the curb of one of the most expensive luxury loft and apartment buildings anywhere in the city. Phoebe stepped out of the car and craned her neck to stare up at the tall glass and steel building.
“If you go straight through those doors and to the elevator, hit the button for the top floor. It will take you to his front door. Good evening, miss.” He held the door open for her, and the second she passed through, headed back to his car and drove away.
“Guess there’s no chance of running away now.”
Phoebe straightened, gripped her purse tightly, then stalked towards the elevator and waited impatiently for it to descend the twelve stories to reach the lobby. A guard at the front desk watched her and smiled when she glanced his way. She returned the smile, though all it did was make her feel even worse than she already did. When the elevator arrived, she stepped inside, hit twelve, then waited. The ride up was slow, and by the time the doors dinged open again, she thought she’d lost her nerve.
Until she remembered how great last weekend had been and just how much she was going to miss it because of this man.
When she stepped out of the elevator, Phoebe put on the best smile she had, strode straight up to the front door, and knocked gently a few times. She heard music coming from the other side of the door and the clinking of glasses. There was the sound of heavy footsteps right before the door unlocked, and he pulled it open.
“Anna, glad you made it,” Ben said tightly.
Riley. His name is Riley Marston and he’s a liar, she reminded herself as she stepped past him.
“Yes, thanks to the car you sent. I didn’t know you could do that.”
He closed and locked the door as she carelessly tossed her purse and jacket on a nearby chair. “Perks of being close to the boss.”
“Ah, I see. You’re friends with him,” she said as she twirled around and took in his place. “This is incredible, Ben, really. Look at those ceilings!” Phoebe’s smile was genuine as she took in this place—his place, the home of her pirate. It suited him well. There was metalwork on the walls, bits and pieces with candle holders or picture frames. She’d always thought art like that would make a place look cold, but not here. Here, it looked exquisite. There was even a set of double swords over the fireplace on the far wall. She laughed as she hurried over to look at them. “Cutlasses?”
He followed her over with a nod and drink in hand. “Yeah, souvenir from a trip with my grandfather. Where we both got the piercings done, too.”
She took the martini from him and sipped it. “That’s pretty good.”
“For a pirate, you mean?” he asked with a raised brow, his lips twitching in a smile, but as Phoebe stared at him, she saw something else lurking in his eyes. A darkness she hadn’t noticed before. “Dinner won’t be ready for a while yet. Make yourself at home.”
He stepped away and motioned for her to find a seat on the couch, which was leather that felt like butter to the touch. She expected him to sit next to her as they’d done at her place, but he remained standing, and she felt a wave of cold hit her in the face. He was up to something or he knew something, just like she did. It had to be about the files, but if anyone had a right to be angry at that, it was her. She’d shown them to him in complete confidence and he’d up and taken them. Her only proof of what Yancey was up to.
Phoebe leaned back into the couch and sipped her martini a few more times. “Nice place. Did you inherit it somehow?”
The liquor burned down her throat and settled warm in her stomach. Usually, she wasn’t a gin drinker, but tonight, it bolstered her nerve.
Riley glanced around and shrugged. “Thought I needed a place of my own, so no.”
“You had the money to buy this?”
“You’d be surprised what I have,” he said, then sipped his martini, blue eyes all of a sudden steel, watching her. “Just like I was a bit surprised to find out what you had.”
The bitter tone of his words made Phoebe flinch. The heat she’d felt towards him all weekend, the fire that had warmed her in his presence, was slowly being snuffed out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But if I did, I would say that maybe—whatever you found out I had—I should not have been so nice as to show you,” she said as her voice grew louder. “Maybe I should have ignored you that night at the restaurant and never tried to escape my date with you.”