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She answered with a sexy as fuck pair of soft yellow pants that reminded me of the sexy as fuck nightie she tortured me with last night, and a sleeveless white top that I wanted to unbutton with my teeth. She also wore a confused expression. “Why didn’t you come through the back door?”
“Couldn’t lock mine from outside.”
“Oh yeah, of course. I just fed everyone. Let me get his carrier and medical records.”
She’d already disappeared down the hall, so I stood there, trying not to laugh at how fucking cute she was. I took a moment to really look at her place. It was an identical layout to mine, but after closer inspection, I noticed her furniture had dings in it, and her couch had a tear on the back. For a woman who grew up in a mansion that I assumed was filled with the finest furnishings, this was really a step-down.
She returned with a custom-embroidered cat carrier and a matching folder with his name on it. “I’d normally wait until Monday, but I learned the hard way that if they hurt their eyes, it’s an emergency because things can go bad fast. Everything the vet should need is in here. I wrote a note giving you permission, and his favorite blanket sprayed with pheromones is inside so he shouldn’t be too freaked out. Oh, and here’s the card.”
I took it and put it in my pocket, where it would stay. “Are you sure that’s everything?”
“What did I forge…” She caught my smirk and playfully slapped my arm. “Shut up, I love him.”
“He’ll be fine. Give me your number, though, in case I need to call you for anything.”
She rattled off her digits and then handed me a key. “In case you’re back before me, you can bring him here.”
I waited for her to kiss him goodbye and put him in the carrier, then took it from her and headed to my Jeep.
* * *
Henry had a big scratch on his eye, and the technicians applied his first dose of ointment before I took him home, which only ended up being a little over an hour. I kept Paris updated and brought him back to her apartment with the key she gave me.
Wrong or not, I took the opportunity to snoop around her space. I put the cat carrier back in the closet in the second bedroom that was neatly organized with damn near every toy and product a cat would need.
I thought the room would have that ammonia odor associated with cats, especially because there were five litter boxes in here. They were self-cleaning, and not a hint of anything but mint was in the air. In fact, it actually smelled clean.
Across the hall were the same wood accordion-slatted French doors I had, and I didn’t look because I knew a washer and dryer were behind them. The bathroom was small, and she decorated it in a light purple and gray theme. I peeked in the linen closet in the hall, not surprised to see neatly folded towels and blankets, along with baskets of basic toiletry items.
Her bedroom door was wide open, and I took the invitation to let myself in. Mismatched nightstands and a tall dresser with a TV on it took up most of the bedroom, and her attached bath was, again, just like mine, with a private toilet, a single sink, and a corner shower, except on opposite sides. The sugary sweet scent that followed her still lingered, and inhaling it made my cock involuntarily twitch.
When I saw my place for the first time, I was surprised at how large the primary bedroom’s closet was. I had a ton of empty space, but hers was filled to the brim with clothes and shoes. There was also a tall skinny chest of drawers, one of which had a scrap of lace caught in it, and I resisted the temptation to look through her lingerie. It was bad enough that I was doing this. I wasn’t going to be a creep on top of it.
As I made my way back to the living room, I again noted a lack of personality. There was a very small desk and office chair in the corner right next to the sliding door. She had a decent laptop, and when I saw a pair of blue-light-blocking black-rimmed glasses folded on top, the image of her wearing them made me smile.
I pulled open the skinny drawer on the desk and was surprised to see some photos scattered. I took them out, and my heart broke for the little girl in the pictures. They were mainly her and Austin when they were young, a family shot taken by a professional, and her and another young boy with mud on their faces holding frogs.
The joy on her face was something I hadn’t seen from her yet. The closest she got was when she saw Henry come back, but even that was still guarded.
Yeah, something happened.
And I was going to find out what because she deserved to experience the same kind of happiness now that she did as an innocent child.
I made sure Henry was good, then locked up and went to my place where I opened my laptop.
I’d looked into her father, who was as shady of a businessman as there was. Aside from using his daughter’s assets to acquire, close, and maintain deals, he was above board on paper. The large political contributions he made across several states months before he just happened to buy out a business in said state were not difficult to find.
This meant there was much more buried deeper, and I intended to find it.
But for now, my concern was Paris and what the hell caused her to go from riches to rags. And why did she have such a bad reputation? The girl I knew was exactly as Bristol described—sweet, shy, and kind. Sure, she could act like a bitch, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that it was fake.
My cell vibrated on the island that separated the living room from the kitchen. I was skimming through questionable bank transactions and didn’t want to stop, but I looked to see who it was, just in case it was Paris.
Beck’s name flashed, and concern had me answering the call. “What’s up?”
“You home?”
“Yeah.”
