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I step off the elevator, not fully realizing the grandeur or Asher’s place until I’m standing in the midst of it. Instead of a hallway lined with apartment doors, like I’d expected, I suddenly find myself in the middle of a top floor penthouse. The apartment stretches across the entirety of the building, with floor-to-ceiling windows peering over downtown Seattle.
My mouth drops open in shock.
Asher comes up behind me, chuckling. “Like my place?”
I close my mouth, suddenly embarrassed. “It’s nice,” I say. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Of course Asher King lives in a penthouse in downtown Seattle. Where else would he live?
“Do you want something to drink?” Asher calls over his shoulder as he strides to the kitchen.
I follow him, setting my bag on the floor by the kitchen counter. “Sure,” I say.
“Red or white wine?”
“Red.”
Asher pours two glasses and hands me one, taking a seat at one of the barstools at his counter. I take a seat across from him, sipping from my glass.
“So this guy, whoever he is, must have been a regular at the club,” Asher says, giving me a questioning look.
I shrug. “Seems likely, but I don’t know who. Like I said, his face was covered when he attacked me.”
Asher looks thoughtful. “And he left notes in your locker.”
“Yes,” I confirm.
Asher takes a long, slow sip of wine. “I’ll look into it.”
I almost snort at the absurdity. “How are you going to do that?” He has even less information that I do. What could he possibly find out?
Asher shoots me a look. “I have people.”
I fall silent. Of course he does. Of course Asher King haspeople. I glance around, taking in the opulence. While the penthouse is definitely big, it isn’t overly decorated. Pretty minimal, actually. “Your place is …”
“Big?” Asher asks.
“I was going to say empty.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“You have a lot of space and not a whole lot of … things.”
He chuckles. “I don’t really like things.”
I smirk. Ironic of a billionaire to say. He could have literally anythinghe wants. “Do you have a girlfriend?” I find myself asking, shocked as the words slip from my mouth. “Or—didyou have one?” I can’t help myself. I want to know more about Asher, and after seeing this apartment, I can’t imagine a woman’s touch coming anywhere near here.
Asher seems surprised at my question but quickly recovers. “No girlfriends, really.”
“Just hookups in your standing hotel suite?” I mean it to tease him, and he just rolls his eyes.
“Usually, yes.”
I lean forward, feeling bold. “But why? I can’t imagine it’d be hard for a guy like you to snag a girlfriend.”
He levels me with another of his long looks. Finally, he answers, “Let’s just say I have a hard time finding someone who’s interested in me for the right reasons.”
It takes a moment for his words to sink in. It’s a surprisingly vulnerable comment for him. My brows furrow. “What does that mean?” I ask softly.
He purses his lips. “When you have the money, the business, the connections I have … you tend to attract people who aren’t necessarily looking for …” He rolls his eyes again. “Love.”
