“Gah!” she exclaims, adding on a gagging noise and a groan. Then, she’s laughing and I allow myself to laugh along. “Please, never say that to me ever again.”
“I promise, I won’t. Sorry,” I snicker.
We pull into the parking garage of my apartment building, which has a private, secluded area for the penthouse suite that’s barred with a parking gate. Punching in my code, I drive in and park along my other cars. There’s two others there; a G-Wagon and a Ferrari.
“How in the world does a polo player in Virginia afford all this?” Luce breathes.
I bite down on my cheek, dreading the answer.
Chapter Seven
Luce
“A bit of a long story,” Rupert replies as we get out of the car.
“I think we have plenty of time,” I reply, walking with him toward the elevator.
He sighs and hits the button, the doors opening immediately. The inside is all stainless steel with a glass wall on the back facing a slab of concrete. Punching in a code, the elevator closes the doors and begins to move. Once we lift from the garage, I turn to get a look at the city as we go higher and higher. I’ve always been a country girl, but I can’t deny that it’s a gorgeous view. It’s a part of downtown where there are murals dominating the sides of buildings, others painted bold colors, and others being true works of architectural art with their unique shapes and use of a blend of materials.
“Polo pays pretty handsomely,” he says, gaining my attention. “Though, you’re right, it’s less in this region. And I’m not even a professional player, per se. I do local tournaments and I have a couple of sponsors, but to be professional you have to be in Florida.” He pauses and sucks in a deep breath, “So, the long story short is, I come from money. My parents own a pretty big medical tech company. I manage it for them these days— well, I’m supposed to. My friend, Chuck, oversees daily operations for me so that I can play polo and see to my other endeavors.”
“Such as?” I question. It’s dawning on me that it’s rather rude to ask people about their income, but I guess I was so in need of a distraction that it didn’t occur to me until now.
“I fund a non-profit in town that helps the homeless with housing, food, and resources to overcome struggles they might be facing. Whether it be simply finding a job and an affordable apartment, or mental health services, addiction services, or legal. I regularly set up charity matches at the Polo Club for it. It’s been a great way to raise money and spread awareness.”
He answers it as though he’s reading a spreadsheet, as if it isn’t the most selfless thing I’ve ever heard of anyone doing. “That’s… remarkable, Ru,” I breathe.
Rupert shrugs and looks at me from the corner of his eye. “It’s what feels right. It’s not remarkable.”
“It is,” I urge. “So many in your position would be spending their fortune on blackjack and hookers.” He breaks out into a bit of laughter, and I can’t help but smile. “I’m serious! It’s a beautiful and commendable thing you are doing.”
“Well, thanks,” he replies with a weak smile. “It’s not something I do for the notoriety. It’s just… I know what it’s like to be in a place of being unable to help yourself and needing someone there to lend a hand. I was thankful enough to have my family, but I know not everyone does. I want to be that for all that I can.”
As if he couldn’t be any dreamier, he turns out to have a heart of literal gold?!
The elevator doors open and we step into a wide, stark white hallway that leads to a single door. When we enter that, I am absolutely gobsmacked by it. I shouldn’t be, considering we parked in a private garage and took a private elevator— but holy hell! The place is open concept for the living area, and it is easily twice the size of the house me and Sierra share to save on the rent. The ceiling is two stories high, though I spot a staircase and suspended walkway to a room above the living room. The far wall is completely glass, the floor is poured concrete, and all of the furniture is minimal, sleek, modern, and yet is all in earth-tones. There’s rich browns, cream whites, forest and olive greens, and deep, muted blues. It's extravagant, but homey.
“Wow,” I exclaim as we walk inside.
Ru gestures for me to take off my shoes, which we both do. “Would you mind if I shower? Sort of a habit when I come home from the club.”
“Not at all,” I assure him.
I see something lingering in his eyes then, but I can’t decipher it. “Do you want one? You could go first.”