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“Well, listen,” she says softly, turning to me and sucking her bottom lip in with an apologetic look. “I need to rest.”
“Sure, yeah. Sorry.” I back out of her place and step into the hallway, feeling slightly disappointed—I don’t want to part.
She smiles, batting her eyelashes. At me?
“Goodbye, Jace Reed, and thank you,” she says in a flirty voice, sagging against the door as she slowly closes it.
“She likes you, and we just lost her.”
“Fuck off,” I murmur, walking down the hall to the elevator, feeling like the hallway is already a notch dimmer without her smile.
“Fuck! Jace, hold up! Hold up, hold up! Turn around!”
“Why?” My forefinger pauses over the elevator button.
“I said turn the fuck around! How did I not think of it? Brilliant! Go back!”
Yessir.
Just the thought of seeing that pretty girl again makes me nervous as hell. But my heart is ecstatic. It pounds harder than on my first service trip to Yemen when I was eighteen.
I stop by the door I just walked out of and knock, my hoodie practically steaming from me sweating.
The door opens to reveal Lucy Moor again with her lovely smile, in that same black strapless minidress, with impossibly long legs and bare feet. She looks surprised but somewhat curious.
“Jace? You there?”Roey’s warning voice pulls me out of my stupor and forces me to smile at her.
I know what Roey’s about to say, and it’s bad, bad, bad. These blue eyes are trouble. I can sense it. My heart does too, pounding wildly.
Lucy Moor, you weren’t supposed to happen, I say to myself, lost in her luminous gaze, when I repeat Roey’s words in my earpiece:
“How much is that room for rent?”
4
LU
I’m stillin bed when my phone rings, and Greg, the concierge from downstairs, announces, “Miss Moor, you have a visitor.”
“A visitor?”
I rub my eyes, trying to get rid of the slight grogginess that I’ve never had even during the worst hangovers. The morning sunlight is unusually razor-sharp.
“Mr. Jace Reed,” the concierge says. “The gentleman says you are expecting him.”
I wake up in an instant.
Right, my savior from the night before.
“Let him up, please. Thank you, Greg!”
Well, last night, I definitely had one too many before meeting Uncle.
He and Mom used to be close. Uncle used to come to visit every several months, on holidays, then once a year, until he disappeared when I started the university three years ago.
He called me out of the blue just yesterday and wanted to meet up, said he was in New York.
“Huh. I haven’t talked to him in years,” Mom said when I called her. “Never told him you left Virginia.”
