“Whatever pays the bills.”
“You’re surprisingly calm about it.”
I shrugged. “I’ve seen much worse. Charlie keeps to himself, so—”
“Much worse?”
I swallowed. I didn’t mean to let that slip. It was all in the past now, but I went out of my way not to think about my childhood, easier to ignore it if I did. Pretend it never happened. I made it out alive and well and not nearly as jaded as the others. I didn’t get where I was today by letting it drag me down.
“Anyhoo…” I stepped into my apartment with a shaky laugh. “Thanks for the lift.”
“I hope you hear back from your friend.”
“I’m sure I will. Say hi to Wally for me?”
His shoulders tensed; the lines of his jaw suddenly hard. “Of course,” he said curtly. “Have a good night, Vivian.”
He walked away without another word, leaving me wondering if I’d accidentally offended him.
I retreated into my apartment, rubbing my cheeks with my palms. Did I forget to turn the heater down before I left? It was unbearably hot in here. Nothing a nice cold shower couldn’t fix.
The first thing I did before hopping into the shower was plug my phone in. The screen lit up, the battery icon glowing a dim green. Once there was enough juice, I checked my messages. Molly was normally very good about texting me. If something really did come up, she would have let me know. I probably just missed her message because my phone was dead.
No new messages.
I frowned. That was weird. “Maybe she forgot,” I mumbled to myself.
I stepped into the shower and washed my hair, massaging my vanilla-scented shampoo against my scalp. I breathed in the steam as the hot spray trickled over my skin, trying not to think about the embarrassing reaction I had in Jesse’s car.
The graze of his hand against my shoulder. The tickle of his breath on my cheek. The intensity of his eyes, the weight of his gaze.
I held my head under the showerhead and set the water to cold. I was still inexplicably warm by the time I got out.
Chapter 4
Jesse
I’ve seen much worse.
Her soft voice played on repeat in my mind. Gentle. Kind.
The faintest trace of something sad.
I rode the elevator from the underground parking garage all the way up to the twentieth floor. The doors opened directly into the penthouse suite, which could only be accessed via a programmable fob I had attached to my car keys.
It was only fitting that the head of a security firm outfitted his home like a fortress. Safety was always top of mind for me. And speaking of safety…
Vivian.
Her entire neighborhood —not just her building— was questionable. I counted no less than seven broken streetlamps, only two patrol cars making their rounds when there should have been at least five, two shady deals in dark alleyways, and a significant homeless population camped out in the nearest public park.
Her apartment was also super sketchy. No doorman or concierge. No security cameras out front to keep an eye on people’s comings and goings. Her door was flimsy at best, though it was the doorframeI took issue with. Medium density fiberboard. Cheap shit used to save contractors money. If someone wanted to get in, all it would take was a few good kicks. Her portable lock was laughably cute, though I silently gave her props for being prepared.
I knew it shouldn’t matter to me. We didn’t really know each other. It wasn’t my place to tell her how to beef up her security or recommend she carry around mace. But something deep down, some tiny voice in the back of my head, felt compelled to make sure she was alright. The logical side of me said I’d be overstepping. The illogical side…
The illogical side wanted to know what she had hidden under her shapeless blazer. Why would a gorgeous angel like her want to hide beneath such a modest getup? Its only purpose was to let my imagination run wild.
The penthouse lights switched on automatically as I passed through the living room and traipsed toward the kitchen, shrugging off my suit jacket and folding it over the back of the bar stool. I poured myself a finger of whiskey from the small liquor collection on my island bar. The liquid burned all the way down.