“Piper says that you have to, like, turtle your neck—then your neck looks long.”
“You look insane.” I stare at her.
“Who am I kidding—I look terrible in photos,” she says, eating a cinnamon roll as she flips through the ones she took. “I need to just take one of you. Here, take your scotch and pose. Look like a billionaire! Wait—do it with the dog. Then people will know I’m here.”
“I’m not dating your dog.”
She steps back and trips over the coffee table.
I lean forward and grab her, pulling her so she lands half in my lap.
“Oh, geez. I have icing everywhere.” She licks her finger. “There are crumbs on your nice suit.” She puts her cinnamon roll in her mouth and starts brushing at me.
I grab her phone and snap a photo.
“Cute.” I show her.
“Oh, I can’t post that,” she complains.
“Well, then don’t post anything, because I have to work.”
The penthouse has verygood soundproofing, so thankfully I can’t hear her in the guest suite when I finally finish the emails I needed to answer and head upstairs, slowly removing my tie and unbuttoning my dress shirt.
The hallway is dark, the only light the ambient glow from the city that never sleeps, stretched out below the tower.
I almost open her door. Almost look in to make sure she’s there, that she hasn’t escaped, that my prized possession is still mine.
I want her to leave,I remind myself.I’ll write her a check this minute.
I have my leatherbound copy ofHeart of Darknessnext to me on the bed, but I don’t have the stomach to finish my reread.
I sit on my bed staring out at the moon, like we’re almost eye level.
When Agent Frank Donnelly and the rest of the FBI stormed the cellar where my dad was keeping us prisoner, I thought it was the coolest thing I’d ever seen—even cooler than when Spencer trained a mouse we’d found to run through a toilet-paper-tube obstacle course. It was like a movie, the kind my brothers and I used to watch on the crappy TV in the corner of the cellar.
Frank had covered my eyes when he took us out. It was sunset.
“Don’t worry,” he’d told me. “It will be dark soon, and the moon will be out. I know the sun hurts your eyes.”
I shake my head.
I want to wake Dani up. Have another fight. Just so I don’t have to think.
“I have a board meeting tomorrow, and I need to sleep,” I remind myself aloud.
I don’t want to mess up the made bed—the crisp corners of the sheets, all the pillows in a neat little line. Maybe I’ll sleep on the couch.
Ding-dong!
My heart starts racing. Who is ringing the doorbell at this hour? If it were my brother, he would have called. Or did he?
It’s something out of the ordinary, and breaks in an established routine always mean trouble.
I check my phone. It’s not my brothers, at least.
Ding-dong!
Concierge:Your dad is here. I sent him up.
