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“Yeah.” There’s a hesitation in his voice and I picture him tugging on the back of his neck as he paces the room. “That’s why I was calling.” There’s a long pause as he chooses his next words. “It’s Savannah.”
My stomach plummets and I pray to God it’s not bad news. That she’s at least unharmed. We haven’t seen each other in so long, but it doesn’t mean I care any less about her now than I did then.
“Is sh…” My voice comes out as a croak. I clear my throat, straightening in my chair as I try again. “Is she okay?”
Jack seems oblivious to my torment, as he rushes, “I think so. She was a bit vague on the details but she said she needed somewhere to stay. That’s kinda why I’m calling you. She sent me the info on her hotel and, let’s just say I don’t feel comfortable leaving her there. Would you mind letting her stay with you for a bit? I’d let her stay at my place, but I have contractors in and they aren’t due to finish for a few weeks.”
He pauses to suck in a breath and I take that as my opportunity to respond, because if Jack says it isn’t safe, then it isn’t safe. “Send me the details.”
A relieved sigh sounds through the phone. “Thanks, No. I owe you one. I’ll send you the info now.”
“Anytime, Jack. I’ll let you know when I’ve got her.”
We disconnect the call and I stand from my desk, gathering up the papers I was working on so I can finish it when I get home. My phone chimes in my pocket and I expect it to be Jack with the details for Savannah’s hotel, but it’s not.
Sutton
I’m meeting some of the girls for dinner tonight.
Noah
Okay.
Sutton is my girlfriend of three years. We’ve been living together for the last year but not much has changed in our relationship. Sutton is understanding of the long hours I have to put in as a CEO and is more than happy to entertain herself. Some might say we live separate lives but it’s what works for us.
My phone buzzes in my hand again. This time it’s Jack with the hotel details. Plugging the address into the search engine on my phone, I immediately see why Jack was so concerned. It’s a goddamn shithole. I know that Savannah can look out for herself, but even I wouldn't feel comfortable staying in a place this sketchy.
Opening my contacts, I dial the car service I use on the rare occasions I can’t take the subway. Holding my phone to my ear, I grab my jacket and briefcase, making my way to the elevator. As I jab the call button the ringtone in my ear switches over to a male voice.
“Evershed and Whitehall Cars. How can I help you?”
I know immediately who has answered the call. “Hi Eddie, is Rupert available for a last minute trip this evening?”
“Mr. Parker, of course. He’s on his way to you now. The office, right?”
Fuck. Maybe I have been working too much lately. “Yes, Eddie. Thank you.”
The elevator arrives as I disconnect the call and shoot a text to Rupert with our destination before stepping inside. The ride down is quick and when I exit into the deserted lobby, my strides eat up the space between the elevator and the door.
I opt to wait on the sidewalk and take in the last of the late July evening. Anything to calm the storm raging inside of me at what I might find when I get to the hotel. When I push through the door, a cool summer breeze hits me and I regret having spent the majority of my day cooped up inside.
My wait isn’t long and I’ve filled it by scrolling through my emails, answering a few and forwarding some to others to pick up. It’s enough to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied.
The sleek town car pulls up next to me, gleaming in the last of the summer sun, and I reach for the back passenger door. Rupert knows that I think using a car service is luxury enough without him getting out to open the door.
“Good evening, Mr. Parker,” Rupert greets me as I slide into the backseat.
“Evening, Rupert.”
My thoughts are racing with all of the worst case scenarios of what I could stumble upon, as well as a nervousness at seeing Savannah again. Why I’m nervous, I have no idea. Yes, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her, but that’s no reason for my mouth to be dry and my heart to be racing. My knee bounces with the restless energy coursing through me.
Rupert navigates us through Lower Manhattan and across the bridge as I pull up the hotel details again. The screen fills with images and news articles of a dilapidated and seedy looking hotel. Why she chose this place out of all the establishments in the city, is beyond me.
It isn’t long before we pull up outside the hotel—if you can call it that. The pictures don’t do it justice, or rather they made it look better than it actually is. Looking at the screen in my hand and then back at the building in front of me, I would have guessed the hotel had been around a lot longer. It’s safe to say, nobody has been taking care of the place.
When I step out of the car, my nostrils fill with the scent of rotting garbage mixed with dog crap. Exhaling, I will my stomach to hold because I don’t want to let my guard down while throwing up my lunch.
My stride is purposeful as I move toward the entrance. The lights are out on either side of the door, casting the entryway in shadow. Perfect. It’s like she was just asking to be kidnapped, or even worse, murdered.
