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“Look at me,” my roommate says, reaching out to clasp my hands. “As a friend, I’m trying to save you from yourself.”
My expression softens. “I appreciate your concern, but it’s entirely misplaced. Yes, Ben and I got a little flirty at the royal ball, but that was ages ago. That ship has sailed. He’s not a love interest. He’s barely a friend. More like an academic benefactor. I’m going over there to look through some boxes, take some pictures, and that’s it.”
Lee drops my hands. I gather my bag off the floor and swipe my keys from the nightstand.
“I’ll grab something to eat while I’m out,” I tell him.
“Hey,” he says before I leave. “I’ll keep my ringer on. Call or text if you need anything.”
When I arrive at Ben’s penthouse, he greets me looking like he just stepped off a yacht. Sporting a tan and salt-sprayed hair. A linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Barefoot in khaki pants. He’s like an ad inVoguefor sunglasses or a six-figure watch.
“Hope you don’t mind,” I say, carrying a paper bag into his stainless-steel chef ’s kitchen. “I asked your driver to stop on the way for some takeout.”
He swirls a tumbler of dark amber liquor, watching me set cartons on the marble countertop. “You’re quite a peculiar girl.”
“I get that a lot.”
“It’s working for you,” he says, lifting his glass to salute me. “Keep it up.”
“Should we eat first, or we can nosh while we go through the boxes?”
“I admire your industriousness, but let’s have a drink first.” Ben pulls a bottle of white out of the wine fridge under the counter, then finds a corkscrew. “The boxes have been waiting half a century. They’re not going anywhere.”
I consider refusing, but I can’t deny that putting down some of Ben’s absurdly expensive wine sounds more appetizing than paper cuts at the moment.
“All right.” I hold my hand out for the glass. “Hit me.”
“That’s the spirit.” He passes me a generous pour and we clink glasses. “I do admire Americans and your appreciation for procrastination.”
“Why do I feel like that’s an insult?”
His answer is a wink as he sips his drink. He pops open a carton of food, becoming more agreeable to it once he’s smelled the arresting aromas of the Vietnamese place I passed on the way here.
“Speaking of which,” he says, “a few friends did invite themselves over when they found out I was back in the city.”
Oh.
“Trust me, they’re a lovely lot. Just don’t let them give you investment advice.” He laughs.
“I didn’t mean to intrude. If you’ve got other plans, I can come back another time. Or just take the boxes with me and arrange with Sophie to ship them back— ”
“No, no. I’m not chasing you out. Far from it.” Ben downs his drink and pours himself another. “I prefer to conduct business with friends. And as we embark on this adventure of discovery together, I should like us to be friends.”
“Okay.” Though I’m not sure how a party is conducive to the task at hand. I’m starting to feel a bit duped.
“Oh dear,” he says. “I’ve gone and done something dreadful, haven’t I?” Ben watches me with amused concern. “Please, darling. You mustn’t be afraid of a bit of fun. Life is always throwing unexpected surprises at us.”
My stomach sinks as I watch Ben reach into his pants pocket and pull out a small capped vial of white powder.
He flashes me a cheeky smile. “You really must give yourself permission to relish the chaos.”
38
FROM THE FIRST BUMP OF BLOW, BEN’S LOST TO ME.
I don’t have time to consider an exit strategy before his penthouse is crawling with posh society’s dirty secrets snorting powder off the coffee table and slathering themselves in expensive champagne. They’re all quite pleased with themselves, sloshing about, cackling indecipherably.
I’ve got a headache.
