The girl’s purse was empty. Just a student ID and a twenty. No mirror or makeup. Nothing.
I stared at her, passed out on the green velvet couch in my office.
I could call the cops. I probably should . . .
Her name. I glanced again. At least now I knew her name.
“Evangeline,” I breathed. Pretty, I decided. Regal, almost. It suited her. Lying there so peacefully, she reminded me of Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday.
Get a grip, Antonio. She’s drugged, not sleeping. And she’s a college student, not a fucking princess.
That was my brother’s voice I heard in my head. He might be right. Maybe I watched too many old movies, I decided. Maybe it was time to join the twenty-first century.
My mother had loved those old movies. We’d watched them over and over together. I’d never stopped.
Vincent made fun of me, but he still came over sometimes to watch them. He said he only came for the popcorn. I made it the old-school way.
But I was pretty sure he remembered movie nights with Mom, too. It was our way of keeping her close. Of keeping her alive.
Like this girl. She reminded me of my mother a little bit. Sweet.
Sweet and in trouble.
I would protect her. Even if I hadn’t been able to protect my mother, I would keep this girl safe, for tonight, at least.
If I sent her to the cops, she would end up alone in the hospital while she slept it off. Vulnerable to predators. I knew better than most that predators were everywhere. Better to take her home and watch over her, make sure she got enough water. Make sure she wasn’t scared when she woke up.
My mind made up, I called my brother’s limo driver, Pete, and told him to come get me. Usually, I preferred to take taxis or drive myself. But tonight, I needed privacy. The limo windows were heavily tinted. And I knew Pete would take anything he saw to the grave.
“Go to the back,” I added. “I have a situation.”
Situation meant body. Just in this case, the body was very much alive. And so beautiful that my pulse was racing just from looking at her.
I lifted her into my arms again and headed down the long hallway to the alley. I waited until I heard the limo pull up. No need to stand outside with an unconscious girl any longer than necessary.
As always, I lived my life in a way that attracted as little attention as possible. Other than my car, of course. Or the custom suits. Or the luxury high-rise apartment.
I was circumspect within reason.
The older generation was flashier and way over the line when it came to criminal activities. It was an unnecessary risk, reckless and foolhardy. My brother and I technically didn’t have the same reasons to hide our wealth, with all the legitimate businesses we had, but our natural inclination was to keep things on the down-low.
I wondered what this little girl would think when she woke up in the lap of luxury. Would her eyes flare with unspoken greed? Or would she be overawed by it all? Or would she not give a rat’s ass that the guy who rescued her was rich as fuck?
I looked at her worn-in jeans and the lack of jewelry or makeup. She definitely wasn’t the flashy type, but she clearly respected quality. Just like me.
My money was on number three.
The soft sound of wheels on wet pavement made me lift my head. I’d been staring at her lips again. I couldn’t seem to stop. And until she woke up, I had a good excuse.
I was smiling as I carried her outside, sliding her gently into the open door of the limo.
“Thanks, man. Take me home.”
“She okay?”
“She will be.”
“You never take girls home.”
“This is different. She’s in trouble.”
“You’re the boss.”
I didn’t add that the girl was special. I hadn’t even spoken to her, but I knew. She wasn’t just in trouble. I was.
The feeling of her in my arms was doing crazy things to my body. I had fucking goosebumps for the first time in my life. I was hot and cold all over. And that didn’t even touch what was happening below the belt.
I’d thought about taking her to the condo instead. It was closer. But for some reason, I didn’t. I wanted privacy from the normals. I wanted security minus the security cameras.
I frowned at her, wondering if I should get her an IV drip or something to help get the drug out of her system.
We had a doctor in the family, but he was one of my dad’s old asshole cronies. I didn’t want him knowing about this. I didn’t want my dad to get his sticky fingers anywhere near this girl.
He might be retired, but he was still a goddamn bastard. Especially when it came to women.