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I look at him with a new understanding. A new respect. Because suddenly needing to fill your parents’ shoes?
I know how hard that can be.
“It’s not easy,” I agree. “Especially when you wish they were here to help guide you, the way you always thought they would.”
Caleb looks over and furrows his brow. He’s about to ask me something when—
“Mr. Sterling?”
It’s Victoria, in the doorway. “I found your driver waiting downstairs. You have the lunch appointment. I wondered if you’d been waylaid.”
She glares at me.
Caleb nods. “Thank you.”
She hovers there for a moment, before retreating.
“I’ll get these to legal,” I say, remembering the papers in my hand. But Caleb looks at me for a moment, then shakes his head.
“Those can wait.”
“But—”
“You’re coming with me.”
I follow him downstairs, wondering where we’re going. If this is his sneaky way of getting me to that candlelight meal…
Well, I wouldn’t hate it.
At the curb, his town car is idling. The driver even opens the door for me, waiting as I slide into the cool leather interior.
It’s spacious. Luxurious. And is that… ? Yup, a minibar.
“Sure beats the subway,” I crack, trying to hide my nerves. Caleb is lounging in the seat beside me. The car pulls away.
We’re alone.
But if I worried he’d try any seductive tricks, I was wrong. Caleb pulls out his phone and starts scrolling—and he doesn’t stop until the car pulls up in front of a marble-and-glass building somewhere in the city. Downtown? I have no idea; I’ve been so focused on him, I’ve lost all sense of direction.
We get out, and I follow him into a chic, understated lobby. It’s all marble and heavy mahogany, like a bank, but there are no customers in here. As Caleb strolls in, the people behind the enormous reception desk seem to bow their heads. “Welcome, Mr. Sterling.”
“I won’t be long.”
We take an elevator down to the basement, where there are security guards waiting. “What is this place?” I ask, looking curiously around at all the security. “Did you bring me to Fort Knox?”
Caleb cracks a smile. “Almost.”
We head down a corridor to a secure-looking door. Caleb nods to the guard, then moves into position for a retinal scan.
The door clicks open, revealing an enormous circular-shaped vault, the kind I only thought existed in heist movies. Inside, the walls are filled with shelves and shelves of deep blue boxes.
I’ve never owned anything Sterling Cross, but I know their signature boxes.
“This is our archive,” Caleb explains. “This vault holds the oldest and most precious of all Sterling Cross jewels, as well as our newest designs.”
The shelves go on… Forever.
Caleb murmurs directives to a slim woman in a dark blue suit, who nods and scurries off. She returns a few moments later with some boxes and sets them on a glass table in the center of the room. She begins to open them, one by one, revealing an array of exquisite jewels.
