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“It has a great location.” He points toward Central Park. “I can go on a run every morning. You can’t beat this view, and it’s close to my new job.”
He narrows his gaze as if he’s studying me. “I’m guessing the rent is high because you don’t actually want a tenant in the apartment.”
I exhale. “Where do you work?”
He extends his hand. “Dr. Derek Yates Farrow. It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Ms. Cooperson.”
My jaw almost drops. This is Derek Yates Farrow? He’s nothing like I imagined. I asked Lang for a background check on the guy, but he said it wasn’t necessary. He’s heard of him. His family is wealthy, and he’s a former SEAL.
I should’ve asked for a picture and more details. Is he married?
Okay, where did that come from?
I don’t look at other men. I’m waiting for Archer. I am married to Archer.
“I promise not to bite,” he says, glancing at his extended hand.
“Sorry, I…” My heart skips a beat when the charge of electricity our touch produces shocks my entire body.
“My apologies for barging onto your roof. It was just hard not to when you were—” He smiles. “Your voice is inviting, like your music, which is magical.”
I stare at him dumbfounded. “What did you just say?”
“Did I offend you?”
“No, it’s just. Only one person has ever described it like that and…”
“You’re pale. I feel like I’m upsetting you. Believe me, that’s the last thing I want to do. Why don’t I go back to my apartment, and we see each other on Monday?”
I nod slowly because it’s safer if he leaves, but I don’t want to be alone. There’s something about him that reminds me of Archer. Maybe I should go home and bury myself under the blankets. I’m not ready for whatever is happening inside my body and heart.
Not ready at all.
ChapterTwenty-Eight
Derek
June23rd
I have trouble sleeping after meeting Piper.
It wasn’t her beauty but how she played the violin after I left. It was beautiful but heart-wrenching all at once. The pain coming from every note threatened to destroy me. I wish I knew why she’s hurting.
At five, I’m out of my bed trying to search for more information about her. Not much comes up. She has a very faint digital print. There’s no link between Piper, the musician, and Piper Cooperson, the therapist. It’s as if they’re two different people. I wish I knew which one is the alter ego.
Since I don’t have much luck with my search, I go out for a run. I’m just about to start when I spot Piper by one of the benches stretching. My jaw almost drops as I admire her body.
“Good morning, neighbor,” I greet her, and she jolts upright.
I can’t help but grin, knowing I affected her slightly.
She turns to look at me and narrows her gaze. “Are you following me, Mr. Farrow?” she chides. “I don’t recall seeing expert stalker on your résumé.”
Piper Cooperson stares at me for a second before bending forward to touch her toes, showing me her round ass.
Stop looking at her as if she’s yours to take, I order myself.She’s too young, presumably engaged, and your new boss.
I look at my watch, then glance around the area. “Since when did running at the park translate to stalking?”
