Page 45 of Rush

Rush

Ihadn’t seen Broderick since he left for Argentina over a week ago—the day he rescued me at Pacific and lingered just long enough after my celebratory dinner to make the pieces of my broken heart rattle.

That fluttering intensifies as I sit in the back of the town car, cradling trays of gourmet burgers and an assortment of drinks. Judging by the weight, I probably ordered enough to feed a small army. Tony, my driver and security tonight, skillfully weaves in and out of traffic, while Chris sits beside him. The cocktails I had earlier are definitely hitting different, leaving my confidence tipsy and my nerves tap-dancing beneath my skin.

Maybe I should’ve called ahead.

What if he’s busy? What if he already went home?

The sleek glass facade of Goodman Enterprises comes into view. It’s past ten on a Friday night, and the building looks deserted except for a lone security guard at the lobby desk.

“Thanks, Tony,” I say warmly, patting the back of his seat as we pull up. “Here—I hope you two like burgers and soda.” I hold out one of the bags along with a drink for each of them.

Chris grabs it eagerly. “Thanks Miss Montgomery.”

“Ma’am, you didn’t have to,” Tony replies, voice gruff yet appreciative. Tony’s older than Chris and Luca, speaking very little aside from polite nods and the occasional, “Yes, ma’am.” This is probably the longest conversation we’ve had since we’ve been acquainted.

“It’s nothing,” I say, stepping out of the car, balancing the remaining trays carefully. Chris steps out, standing beside me.

“You can eat your food once I’m inside, I should be okay,” I say to him.

He nods.

Approaching the glass doors, I wait, but they don’t automatically slide open.

Hmmph.

I tap on the glass, holding up the trays. “Hey! I brought food!” I call out. The security guard eyes me skeptically from behind his desk, eyebrows raised in silent question. A staticky voice crackles through the speaker near the door.

“Can I help you?”

“I have food for Mr. Schwartz.”

Tossing me a side-eye, he lifts the phone to his ear. I shift nervously from foot to foot, silently chastising myself again for not calling ahead. Idiot. After a brief pause, he nods and presses a button, and the doors groan open.

“Thank you!” I gush, scuttling past him toward the elevators.

“Take the farthest elevator on the left; it’ll take you directly to Mr. Schwartz’s office,” he instructs from behind me. “His assistant will meet you there.”

I nod my thanks again, stepping inside the elevator. The savory scent of grilled burgers fills the tiny space as it whisks me upward to the top floor. A soft ding announces my arrival.

As I enter the foyer, I see a woman with glasses seated behind a desk, her hair frizzier than it likely was this morning, nibblinghalfheartedly on a granola bar. Poor thing—who knows how long she’s been here.

“Hi,” I greet her sweetly. “I’m here for Mr. Schwartz.”

“Oh!” She stands quickly, crumpling the granola wrapper and smoothing out her skirt as she steps forward. “I’m Stacey. I didn’t realize he ordered food—he usually has frozen meals delivered, but nothing’s come in since he got back.”

“Oh, no, he didn’t order anything.” I laugh softly, adjusting my grip on the trays. “I’m Elena, Broderick’s friend.”

Her eyes widen dramatically. “You’re Elena?The Elena?” The wheels are clearly turning in her head, and the recognition leaves me momentarily puzzled.

The Elena?

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance?” I offer tentatively.

A wide grin brightens her face, erasing the tiredness from her eyes. “Silly me. I’m so sorry—go right ahead. His office is just down there.”

I move toward the brown door at the end of the corridor before turning back. “Hey, Stacey, did you want something to eat?” I gesture to the trays.