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“Not from here you won’t. Not so sure the local committee would allow such a lowly carriage to tarnish theneighbourhood.”
I followed him to the front door, where he grabbed his keys and a small black gadget. He handed me my briefcase and locked the front door behind us. Instead of walking straight to the gates, we headed around the side of the building to a garage. He pressed a button on the black gadget and the garage door started torise.
“Black or red?” heasked.
“Red,why?”
When the garage door had opened sufficiently, I saw two cars: one black and one red. Two identical sports cars, the make of which was beyond my knowledge of vehicles, stood side by side. I heard a beep, saw indicators flash a couple of times, and heard car doorsunlock.
He gestured with his hand that I should walk to the passenger door; it was the only one on that side of the car. He opened it. How I managed to lower myself as much as I needed to slide into the seat, without my skirt rising to my waist, was beyondme.
I waited until he was settled into the driver’s seat. “What car is this?” Iasked.
“Aston Martin, DB9,” he said. “VeryBritish.”
“VeryJames Bond,” Ireplied.
“There’s that, as well, I guess. Now,address?”
I wasn’t sure I wanted him knowing where I lived. “Canary Wharf,” Isaid.
“Big place, Canary Wharf, I have offices there. Any particular part I should arriveat?”
Fuck, he had offices near where Ilived!
“Providence Tower, I can direct you once we are closer,” Isaid.
“I know where Providenceis.”
He started the engine and whether it was because we were in a confined space or not, the engine roared, a deep throaty roar. It reminded me of the sound he made when he’d come. I shivered when that thought came tomind.
“Cold?”
“No, I’mfine.”
The voice of his satnav startled me; I hadn’t expected it to come on since he knew the route he had totake.
“You have an American satnav,” I said, not sure why I found itamusing.
“I miss theaccent.”
“How long have you beenhere?”
“A few years. I know Americans here, of course, so I don’t really need that to give me myfix.”
“Is there, like, an ex-patscommunity?”
He laughed. “No, mainly a few American business associates. We do a lot of business in yourcapital.”
“What do you actuallydo?”
“Besides unsuccessfully seducing you?” He looked over andsmirked.
I wasn’t sure about theunsuccessfulpart. I could feel the wetness in mypanties.
“I’m a venture capitalist, I guess that is the technical term. I invest in businesses, then when the time is right, I sell them and pocket thedollars.”
“Do you intend to sell us outthen?”
