The Hunter (Orion the Hunter) (6 page)

“No, sorry.  The description matches someone but it wouldn’t have been him on your floor or in the elevator,” he said.

“Oh, who were you thinking of?  Elvis Presley?” I joked.

He laughed.  “No, now that
would
be impossible!”

“So come on, who couldn’t it be?” I asked as I became aware that I was batting my eyelashes.

“Your description sounds like Lucas Hunter but it can’t have been him,” he replied with conviction.

“Who is Lucas Hunter and why can’t it have been him?” I asked.  I tried not to sound as exasperated as I felt.

“He owns this building.  It can’t have been him because, as far as I know, he stays in his own part of the building.  He wouldn‘t be on the 4
th
floor or in the elevator,” said Clark quietly, as if he didn’t want to be overheard.

I found myself whispering back, “Why wouldn’t he?  Is he based on this floor then?”

“No, right at the top.  He never uses the main elevator.  And I mean, never,” he said and then, noticing my confusion, he dropped his voice even further.  “He has a private elevator that is for his use only.”

“He sounds … odd,” I murmured.  Then a thought struck me.  “Does he have a master key for the building?”

“Yes, he does,” replied Clark knowledgeably, his eyes immediately narrowing.  “Why, do you ask?”

“Just curious,” I said with forced brightness.  “Anyway, I must go - it is my turn to cook.  See you in the morning Mr Clark.”

“Just call me Clark.  Bye, Miss Prince” he called as I shot entered the revolving door.

As I exited, I turned and saw him shaking his head as he walked back to his desk.

I walked back to the apartment with so many thoughts and emotions crashing around my head.  I felt exhausted when I reached it but I made sure to make time for a quick chat with James because I felt bad for snapping at him that morning.

I was so glad to be back inside the apartment.  I closed the door, leaned against it and closed my eyes, breathing in the scrumptious scent of the bouquet.  When I eventually opened by eyes, I found Angel smirking at me from the breakfast bar.

“So, do I take it that you found out who your secret admirer is, then?” she asked smugly.

“Yes … no … I don’t have a secret admirer,” I said in exasperation.

“Oh, so he isn’t secret any more?” she asked, determined, it seemed, to get to the bottom of things.

“I wouldn’t say that exactly,” I whispered.  I placed the bouquet on the breakfast bar and placed my hands on the surface, bracing my arms.

“I think you had better tell me all about it,” Angel coaxed.  “But let’s open a bottle of wine first.”

“I would prefer something stronger,” I said, hopefully.

Ten minutes later we were sat on the sofa sipping cocktails.  I glanced at her and she cocked her head to one side.  I knew that she was waiting expectantly for an explanation but I really didn’t know where to start.  I knew that she was going to freak out when if she learned that I had kept something from her.  I also knew that she wasn’t going to give up until she knew all that there was to know.

I wished that the alcohol would hurry up and hit my bloodstream.  I should have insisted on tequila shots, I thought wryly.  Angel’s eyes widened in surprise as I knocked back the whole cocktail and then shuddered, thinking that, on balance, Angel’s cocktails were probably just as lethal as tequila.

I placed my glass carefully on the coffee table and sat back against the sofa cushion. 

“Oh my god,” Angel announced when I had recounted my first strange encounter.  Her blue eyes were huge.

“Holy crap!” she said when I told her about the elevator encounter. “That’s why you looked like you had seen a ghost - you virtually had.  I knew that it wasn‘t just because of your nerves.  Why didn‘t you tell me?”

I shrugged and avoided her gaze but I should have known that she would persist.  I eventually confessed that I wasn’t sure that he was real.  That I might have imagined him.  Angel said nothing but she nodded slightly, as if to acknowledge my reluctance to share that information.

I reached into my purse and then passed her the card that I had found underneath the bouquet.  I heard her gasp as she read the salutation on the envelope.  Her eyes flicked to mine and I shrugged.  She quickly pulled out the card and read the message, and I watched her face cloud over in confusion.  “What the hell …” she said eventually.  The tension lifted slightly when I mentioned my suspicions that Travis must have sent the flowers.  Angel chuckled as she passed me another cocktail.

“So you know that whoever sent them works in the building, but you don’t know for sure whether it is the mystery man, right?” Angel asked, twirling her blonde hair around her finger, as she often did when she was deep in thought.  “Although, it would fit, wouldn’t it?  If he was in the elevator as you think he was, he would have seen your celebration after your meeting with Norman & Wilde - one that you thought you had performed in secret.”

I nodded as the pieces continued to fall into place. 
It had to be him!
I sipped the cocktail, feeling the liquid warm my throat.  I felt myself relaxing, probably due to the effects of the first cocktail.  Just then, Angel’s phone rang and she switched it off without looking was calling. 

“Angel, that could be important!” I said, but she just ignored me.  Her head was on one side and she was still twirling her hair. 

“We need to find out who this phantom is,” she said eventually. 

“Well, actually … I think I might have discovered his identity,” I admitted, waiting for her predictable reaction.

“What?” she shrieked.  “Who?  How?” She bounced up and down on the sofa as she spoke before grasping my shoulders and looking me straight in the eye, as if willing me to speak. 

As I told her about my conversation with Clark, her baby blue eyes grew wider and wider and her grasp on my shoulders grew tighter.

“Ouch,” I said, rubbing my shoulders, when I had finished.  Angel released her grasp but her eyes remained locked on to mine.  I waited patiently for her to absorb all that I had told her. 

“Lucas Hunter?” she said quietly, after a few moments, almost to herself.  “If he owns that building, then he must be loaded, yet I have never heard of him.”

“Why would you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Surely you don’t know all the rich men who live in New York!”

She raised an eyebrow at me before her questioning continued. “How old would you say he is?”

I thought for a second and closed my eyes.  “I don’t know.  At first, I thought he was much older than me.  But when his angry expression softened, I realized that he couldn’t be more than a few years older than me.”

Angel’s inquisition continued.  “So, around thirty?  Without waiting for my reply she snatched up her phone and began to dial.

“Who are you calling?  You can’t tell anyone about this, not even Chad.  No, especially not Chad.” I cried, hearing my voice going up at by least an octave.

“”Don’t be stupid,” she shot back.  “Of course, I’m not calling Chad.  As if he would have any idea who Lucas Hunter is.”

“Then who -” I stopped, suddenly realizing who Angel would call to find out more about anyone of significant social standing or financial means.  This was confirmed a moment later.

“Hi, Mom,” she purred.  “Oh, I’m good, really good.  You?” 
They chatted for a short while before Angel got to the point.  “Mom, do you happen to know anything about a Lucas Hunter?  All I know is that he owns the Orion Building where Issy’s office is.”

I finished my cocktail, whilst trying to eavesdrop on Angel‘s call, suddenly realizing that I did want to know more about this gorgeous, sexy, unnerving and, let’s face it, downright weird sounding man.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Angel tried to end the call, promising her mother that she would visit soon and that she would be sure to call if she needed anything at all.  I had to resist the urge to grab the phone and end the connection myself.  I waved my arms around to get Angel’s attention and made the universally understood gesture of dragging my finger across my throat.  She rolled here eyes and shrugged.

“Well?” I demanded, more harshly than I intended, when she finally got her mother off the line.

Angel raised her eyebrows and folded her arms at my tone.  Then she flopped down on the sofa and pulled me down next to her.  “Sorry, honey, she doesn’t know anything about him.  She thinks that she has heard the name but she can’t recall where or why.  She even asked my dad, who couldn’t add anything.”

“Argh!” I said with a smile.  “Can you do me a favor?”

“Name it,” Angel said sincerely.

“Make me another yummy cocktail, please?” I asked, giving her my best puppy dog eyes.

She laughed and rolled her eyes before she went off to make me my third cocktail that I just knew I would regret drinking when the morning came.  However, my disturbed sleep and emotional phantom rollercoaster were taking their toll and I just wanted to relax and fall into a drink induced slumber.

Angel returned with a small cocktail for her and a large one for me.  Just as we clinked glasses, there came a determined knock on the door.  I thought it was odd because we hadn’t had a call from James, to inform us that we had a visitor.

I opened the door cautiously to find a very irritated Chad outside.  “What’s happened to Angel?” he asked nervously. 

I stepped back to let him in.  “Nothing, she is fine.  She said you weren‘t coming over tonight.”

“No, she isn’t fine.  She has ignored all of my calls and texts!” he said, sounding wounded.  “She’s never done that, even when she was ill.”

“I think it is my fault,” I said soothingly, rubbing his back.  “She has been helping me all evening.”

“Helping you?” he sounded amazed.  “What with?”

“Oh nothing,” I said carefully.  “Just work stuff.  Go on through, she’s in there - I will grab you a beer.”

I stayed in the kitchen to organize some food as we had missed dinner.  Thankfully, Angel had picked up a tray of sushi earlier in the day and I grabbed it from the fridge gratefully.

Carrying it through to the lounge, I set it down on the coffee table.  “Nice one,” said Chad, tucking in immediately.  “You know, Issy, you can find out a lot of information about someone just a quick Google search,” he said innocently, as Angel shot him daggers.

“Oh god, what have you told him?” I buried my head in my hands, appetite forgotten.

“Just that you want to find out more about who owns your office building,” Angel said quickly.  “What else is there to tell?”

I lifted my head and considered Chad’s idea.  Worth a shot, I thought.  I carried an assortment of sushi and my large cocktail into my bedroom and fired up my laptop.

I entered Lucas Hunter into the search bar and pressed enter.  Within seconds, the screen was full of search results.  Popping a slice of California roll into my mouth, I began to sift through the results.  After a while, I realized that every entry related to business matters.  Nothing about the man himself - just the mention of his name.

I finished up my sushi and was just draining my cocktail glass when Angel popped her head around the door.  “How’s it going?” she asked eagerly. “Don’t worry; Chad has gone for a shower.”

“I have found loads of search results but they just concern his business interests.  He has his fingers in lots of pies - particularly in the construction industry.  He runs Hunter Enterprises and he does indeed, own the Orion building,” I informed her.  “But there is nothing about the man himself.”