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The whole ride out of Brooklyn, Thomas was noticeably absent. He kept fiddling with his phone, fumbling all over the screen.
“Thomas, what’s bothering you?” I bit my lip, hoping he wouldn’t chew me out for asking.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said dismissively. “Just a rough week at work. What about you?”
I swallowed nervously. For a second, I almost told him what had happened with Andy in the alley…and the NYPD’s lackluster response. But I didn’t feel nearly as close to Thomas as I sometimes did. I figured I’d tell him later, after he’d relaxed.
“Oh, not much,” I said. I forced a smile. “I’m fine.”
It was dark by the time the Lincoln pulled up to Thomas’s building. I couldn’t help but gasp as he led me inside and we rode the elevator to the penthouse floor.
“This is beautiful,” I said softly. The walls of the elevator were papered in elegant leather. A masculine, woodsy smell hung about the building, as if somehow they only sold to wealthy, gorgeous men.
“It’s adequate,” Thomas said. “Brett doesn’t always enjoy it. He wishes that we had our own house.”
“He’ll be grateful when he grows up,” I said. “Kids that age…well, it’s kind of a miracle when they aren’t totally selfish.”
Thomas eyed me and nodded. “That’s entirely correct,” he said. “I love my son, very much, as you know.” He sighed. “But this year hasn’t been easy for either of us.”
“Oh.” He’s finally going to open up to me, I realized happily. Finally, we’re getting somewhere!
But just as Thomas was about to speak again, the doors of the elevator pinged open and I followed him down a lush hallway into a beautiful condo.
“Wow.” I glanced around. “This is incredible.”
“That’s all because of Isabelle,” Thomas said. “Brett’s nanny, but she also cooks and cleans.”
“Oh,” I said in a small voice. “Is she here now?”
Thomas gave me a wicked smile. My lower belly gave a lurch to the side and I felt my cheeks pink with a hot flush.
“No,” Thomas said. “We’re all alone.” He leaned in close and raised an eyebrow. “I trust you feel safe.”
I nodded quickly. Safer with you than with anyone else, I thought. If only I could tell you how I really feel.
Thomas led the way into a beautiful, opulent living room with black leather furniture. It looked very adult, very masculine.
“I redecorated recently,” Thomas said. “I’ve always owned this place, but Marlene and I used it as a crash pad when we were married. She kept her house in Bed-Stuy, and I kept this condo.”
I nodded. “I like it,” I said. I glanced around, surreptitiously running my hand along the back of the elegant couch. “It really suits you.”
“Would you care for a glass of wine?”
My stomach rumbled and I flushed hotly as I remembered Thomas’s warning from the last time we were together.
“Only if you don’t give me too much,” I said softly. “I…I wouldn’t want to…”
Thomas grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he said. “But sometimes, on a Friday, there’s nothing like a glass of wine.” I watched nervously as he set his briefcase down on the floor, then walked into the kitchen and selected a bottle of wine from an elegant chrome-and-glass wine cabinet. I gasped when I realized it was also a chiller.
“This is so cool,” I said. I looked around, feeling completely out of my element. “You have so many kitchen gadgets. I have no idea what most of these even do!”
“Oh, I don’t either,” Thomas said. He laughed. “I give Isabelle a budget and tell her to buy whatever she wants for the house. She’s here most days, from five in the morning until I get home from work.”
I nodded. “She must be good for Brett,” I said.
“She is,” Thomas replied. He handed me a glass of wine and we clinked. I couldn’t help but notice that his wine glasses were even more expensive-looking than the glasses had been at Daniel, or La Toscabelle.
“This is so good,” I said. I inhaled and took another long sip.
