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Jared Prince could’ve reported the theft to the cops and let them deal with it but for some reason he’s meting out his own brand of justice. Justice that includes me.
I nibble at my thumbnail, my thoughts threatening to race out of control.
But wait…everything Jared told me ishisversion. Surely Dad can set the record straight? I stagger upright and race for the door.
I’ll call Dad. Let him straighten up this confusion so I can go home. I retrace my steps to the living room and pause for a moment to gawp at the view again.
Shaking my head at the mind-boggling half a billion Jared mentioned, I search for my backpack. It’s no longer on the floor where he dropped it earlier.
It’s sitting on the coffee table.
Frowning, I approach it. From the outside, everything looks okay.
But even before I open it, I sense what I’m looking for won’t be there. I unzip the front pocket, yank it wide and my stomach sinks.
Yup.
My phone is gone.
I look around the sun-dappled room. If there’s a phone in here, it’s well hidden. Still, I zip up my bag and rise to go search.
Before I’ve taken two steps, the door opens and a tall, slim woman walks in.
She’s stunning enough to be a supermodel and I’m immediately conscious of my ordinary leggings and hoodie.
Her smile is dazzling as she approaches. “I’m Noelle,” she introduces herself with a gorgeous French accent. “My wife Amelie and I run the residences.”
“Residences?” I echo.Plural?
She nods, then tilts her head. “Monsieur Prince didn’t show you?”
I shake my head slowly, feeling a tad foolish and irritated.
Her shrug is very elegant and European. “He will in his own time, I think. Right now, you require some food,oui?”
On cue, my stomach rumbles. My pizza and Netflix plans feel like a lifetime ago. “Umm, yes.”
“Come with me. The chef is preparing something I think you will like.”
I open my mouth to ask how she knows what I like and I remember Jared’s admission that he’s been watching me.
Just like that, heat flashes through me again. Did he watch me everywhere in my house? Including my bedroom?
I make a mental note to ask him the next time I see him. And to make sure he knows how sick that is, although I doubt he’ll feel bad about it…
Noelle leads me into the dining room. The space I only saw from the doorway when Jared showed it to me has pale gold parquet floors laid out in polished hexagons with a dazzling chandelier to match.
The long banquet table is made of pale gold wood and the single table setting and tableware carries the same theme.
The only thing more magnificent than the room is the breathtaking view of Central Park in the approaching sunset.
Noelle murmurs something to the chef spooning some divine-smelling food onto a plate. The chef responds in rapid-fire French, and they share a smile before she waves me to the seat.
“Enjoy your meal. If there’s anything else you require, let Jean-Claude know?”
I nod and summon a smile. She responds with one of her own and then leaves.
A minute later, Jean-Claude sets a dish of mac and cheese in front of me. But it’s no mac and cheese I’ve ever seen.
