“Since when do high places make you nervous?”
“Since I considered living in the penthouse of a high rise.”
“If you don’t like it,” he says, opening the door and holding it for me. “We’ll keep looking but I saw pictures. I think you’re going to love it.” He motions to the Audi, sitting a few spaces down at the curb. We hurry in that direction and right as I’ve settled into my seat, and Nick’s shut me inside, my phone buzzes with a text. It’s one of the many random photos of my parents my uncle has been sending me the past two weeks.
“Why are you scowling?” Nick asks, when he joins me.
“Bill sent me another photo.”
“And?”
“They’re about thirty years old and standing in front of a Welcome to Las Vegas sign, both laughing.” I show him the photo. “His caption:They were happy. I know there are a lot of things you feel and think about them, but I really think once we chat, you may change your mind.”
Nick studies it for several beats and looks at me. “How do you feel about what he said?”
“Part of me really craves whatever information he has to give me.”
“I assumed you would, but you started down this path to hold him at bay while Beck did his thing. And since nothing else has gone wrong, we can speculate that if he’s our enemy, your plan is working. The timing of that particular photo and message, considering you told him you’d meet him after this show is suspect.”
“It does seem rather curious.”
“In other words,” he says, “you’re playing him, sweetheart.” He starts the car. “Make sure he doesn’t start playing you.”
“What do you think about the Vegas photo?” I ask as he pulls us onto the road.
“I think he’s going to tell you she had a gambling problem. And I’ll be interested in where that goes, considering he supposedly didn’t talk to her or your father for almost a decade.”
“And Beck has nothing for us?”
“Beck makes me want to return to my childhood and play pin the tail on the donkey again where he’s the damn ass. He’s dry. And I pay him way too fucking well for him to be dry.”
“Could it just be over, Nick? I mean, maybe it really was just the bank trying to take advantage of me?”
“It could be.”
“But you don’t think so,” I say reading into his tone. “If Bill was up to something you’d think Beck would find something on him.”
He turns the corner. “I hate that he sent you that picture tonight of all nights, and got your brain wrapping around this again. Set it aside.” He pulls us into the parking lot of a shiny glass high rise. “We’re here and only a few blocks from your job, because we both know you’re going to take that job at Allure.”
I smile. “Yes. I am.”
He stops at the front of the building, and two valets are instantly at our sides. A few seconds later, he palms both of the men money, and joins me at the sliding glass doors. “The key,” he says, holding it up. “I told the realtor we didn’t have time for conversation.”
We enter the lobby, a beautiful pale gray wood covering the floors, with thick cream and gray curtains on the walls, and gray furnishings. The elevator is all glass and as it starts to move, I face Nick. “What do people do if they forget stuff in the car in one of these buildings?”
“The staff will get it for you, or you get it yourself.”
“The staff will do that?”
“It’s a full-service building and if you tip enough, the staff will know you and be happy to help.”
“That sounds expensive.”
“Most people living in the penthouse aren’t worried about money.”
The elevator dings, and we exit, turning left to be greeted by two massive arched wooden doors. Nick opens the doors and I enter, finding myself skipping quickly past the dark wooden floors and balcony to the curved room, and floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the ocean everywhere I look. “The ceilings are eighteen feet high,” Nick says, shutting us inside. “And there’s electronic shading for the windows.”
“It’s incredible.” I look over at him as he steps to my side. “What do you think?”