Torn (Lords of the City #1) (16 page)

We were enjoying a dinner in our apartment, homemade by Julia. As it turned out, she was a great cook. Buttery and soft, her garlic bread was pure heaven, and her pasta perfectly cooked. When I made pasta, it was either too mushy, or it crunched beneath the teeth. She claimed it was because of the snowy winters in Boston that forced her indoors.

“Are you sure you don’t want any wine?” she asked, holding the bottle up. “Or we can make those lemongrass mojitos you’re always raving about.”

“No, thank you,” I told her. “With the convention getting closer, my stomach is a ball of nerves. I don’t think alcohol will help.”

“Or alcohol is the only thing that can help,” she ventured, but she set the bottle down.

I was nervous about the convention coming up, but what I couldn’t yet tell Julia was that Noah had ordered me not to drink alcohol, and now that we had extended our agreement, I wanted to oblige. I did so willingly, a sacrifice for the pleasures to come.

“I really like your grandma’s house. It was cozy, and there were so many photo albums.” Her eyes glistened. I didn’t imagine Julia had many photos of her childhood, not after growing up in foster care. “I hope you don’t mind, but I flipped through most of them.”

“I don’t mind at all,” I said honestly. “I actually brought a few here. They’re in my room. I can show them to you if you want.”

“Later,” she decided. “I wouldn’t want to risk spilling spaghetti sauce on them. Then the ghost of your grandma’s friend really would come back and haunt us. And so would your grams.”

“If she doesn’t already,” I joked.

“What about your grandpa. You don’t speak much about him.”

“He died in Vietnam. I never met him.”

“That’s terrible. It takes a brave woman to date a soldier,” she said resolutely.

Yes, my grandma had been brave, in many ways.

“What about the guy you were making out on the couch with that night?” I probed. “I haven’t heard you speak much of him lately. What was his name?”

“Ronald Weister,” she said and stuck out her tongue. “It’s like the worst name ever. Obviously, when his parents were deciding what to call him, they didn’t realize he was going to grow up to be such a hottie.”

I laughed. “Weister I can kinda see, but he’s definitely not a Ronald.”

“He tries to tell people his name is Ronaldo, but I know better. I’ve seen his driver’s license.”

“Is that why you haven’t seen him lately?”

“Oh no, I see him. A lot. We’re dating, but we’re not exclusive. I don’t want to move too fast. I just want to enjoy it. No pressure. That’s why I’m not talking much about it.” She looked apologetic, but I wasn’t offended.

“Fair enough,” I said. “As long as you invite me to the wedding.”

She threw a dry noodle at me. “Of course you’ll be at the wedding. You’ll be my maid of honor, which means I get to dump all the work on you while I sit at the spa getting pampered.”

“I’ll do it, as long as you don’t put me in a pineapple dress. I know you like yellow, and so do I, but every color has their limits.”

“I have no limits,” Julia sang. “And neither should you. We’re young and free.”

“To being young and free,” I toasted, but it was a half-lie. I was young, but I wasn’t free.

***

After dinner with Julia, I went to the park to walk off the mound of garlic bread I’d eaten. To my delight, the fountain was running once more. Water spewed from its tiers, and the antique stone had been scrubbed clean, resurrected. A shiny new addition to the fountain caught my eye. At its base was a gold plaque with the inscription:

To Imogen, From Noah.

I bent down to run my fingers over our names, touched by the gesture and that he knew me well enough to predict I’d return.

Within the fountain were countless coins and countless wishes. Pulling a penny from my pocket, I flipped it into the water, repeating history. Last time I stood here, I’d wished for Corey to return. Now, I desired the opposite, that he would never come back. Not that I thought he would and I didn’t wish him harm, only complete happiness. But his absence so far had convinced me he wouldn’t return, as had Noah’s persuasions. But to make sure, I pleaded with the fountain gods to keep him far away.

Corey would complicate things. Time and distance had built a wall between us, but I still had feelings for him deep below the surface, bubbling up every so often, especially when I thought of the future. As much as I cared for Noah, if Corey ever did live up to his promise to find me, he could offer me a lifetime, whereas Noah could only give me a year.

Did wanting both make me a horrible person?

“C
ome in, Peter!” I called from my desk when I heard a knock at my office door.

Carrying a flat white box as if it were a dinner plate, Peter stumbled in. “I come bearing gifts,” he declared and set the box on the couch.

“Careful, or I’ll expect something every time I see you.”

He rubbed his shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Was it heavy?”

“No, my arm hurts from scooping all those potatoes.”

“You should book an appointment at the company spa on the third floor,” I suggested. “There’s no charge.”

He considered it. “I’m so used to providing service to other people, I think I’d find it strange to wear the other shoe.”

“Get used to it, kid. You’re only a butler for another four months. Then you’ll be running head first into your career. Depending on which department I transfer to, by the time I’m out of purgatory, you’ll probably be my boss.”

“No way,” he said as he checked his wrist device. “There is only one boss here. To say otherwise is treachery.”

I lifted an arm as if I held a sword. “Arggg.”

He frowned. “Are you making fun of me?”

“I was a pirate.”

“That’s mutiny you’re thinking of.”

“Same difference.”

He looked around, as if just noticing the new décor for the first time though he’d been to my office many time since the furniture was delivered. “I like what you’ve done with the place. It’s like walking in the forest and sitting on a cloud at the same time.”

I beamed at him. “That’s what I was going for.”

He checked his wrist device again.

“You know, Peter, it’s not in your contract to make small talk with me. Are you busy?”

“It’s been hectic with the World Science Convention so close, but I still have time to deliver a gift from the boss.”

“It’s probably my dress for the gala,” I stammered, hoping his reference to the gift wasn’t a covert way of telling me he knew what was going on between Noah and me. “I mean, that’s the only reason he’d be giving me anything.”

You’d make such a great spy.

Peter smiled. “Would you like me to help you open it?”

“No, I’ll take care of it later.”

He was visibly relieved. “Then will you excuse me? The nanorobotics crew is waiting for me to bring them tea.”

“Tea? Really? You’re not British.”

“But some of them are.”

I waved him on. “Go, boy genius. Use your superpowers for good.”

He bowed in true British fashion and went to the door.

“Peter, wait!” I called. “Guess what I had for lunch today.”

“What?”

“Nano your business.”

“That’s a terrible joke,” he claimed, but he grinned, aligning his freckles in a row. “Thanks. It’ll help me get through the day.”

After he was gone, I left the box unopened on the couch and returned to my work. With a to-do list that was a mile long, I couldn’t afford the distraction. Preparations for the convention were a lot to handle on my own. I’d wondered more than once if it was possible to hire a personal assistant for a personal assistant, but I wouldn’t risk falling out of the rotation so soon.

By the time I remembered the box, the sun was close to setting. In my bare feet, still forbidden to wear anything other than heels, I went to the couch. Embossed on the top of the box was the label of a very expensive designer. Using my nails to get around the tape, I pried it open. Inside was a dress, but it wasn’t for the gala. Short and low cut, it wasn’t the type of garment I could wear out of the building, let alone to a fancy ball.

On top of the dress was a lotus blossom and a note:

Meet me on the rooftop at eight. Wear the dress. Put the flower in your hair. Don’t be late.

Alone, I stripped off my work clothes and slid the dress over my head. By design, slashes in the fabric exposed my skin, one across the stomach, another down the back. I looked like I just survived the zombie apocalypse, if the zombie apocalypse was comprised of angry kittens, but the dress was sexy. I had to give Noah that. In it, I was charged, ready for whatever lesson Noah wanted to teach me. Aroused at the possibilities, I took the lotus blossom and ran it up my leg and across my neck, reliving his touch behind the curtain at the club before tucking the flower behind my ear.

Ten minutes before eight, I left the office and climbed the short flight of stairs to the rooftop. I’d never been on the rooftop of a building before, but I imagined them to be grimy and full of rodents, a haven the lab rats fled to when they escaped their cages. There was nothing filthy about the rooftop of Stafford Scientific. Like the front of the building, it was lined with fiber optic cherry blossom trees that lit up as I passed by, glowing in the night. They guided me to a helicopter launch pad where Peter waited with a bottle of non-alcoholic sparkling cider, which he poured into a glass for me.

I was mortified. “So you do know.”

“I know nothing,” he said impassively, revealing no judgement. “It’s nano my business.”

A laugh barked out of me, and I could feel each muscle relax. “You’re a good friend,” I said and knocked the cider back, wishing it was made of something a lot stronger.

“Mr. Stafford predicted you’d be barefoot, so he also instructed me to give you these.” From his tuxedo jacket, he pulled out a pair of black fuzzy slippers.

“Hallelujah!” I exclaimed and stuck them on. “It’s freezing up here.”

“You’ll be warm soon. The helicopter is approaching. Until then, would you like my jacket?”

“No, thanks. I’ll manage.” I looked out across the other rooftops. They were like giant stepping stones. “I’ve never been in a helicopter before. Have you?”

“Many times. I find them quite enjoyable, but if you get scared, take comfort in the knowledge that it’ll be a brief flight. You’re not going far.”

“Where am I going?”

Peter shook his finger. “That would ruin the surprise. Here, stand back. It’s landing.”

A few seconds later, with the stealth of a hawk, the helicopter appeared from the dark, completely silent. I ducked my head as it landed, only to realize there were no blades anywhere on it.

“It belongs to the company,” Peter explained. “The military wants it, but it’s not on the market yet, not until Mr. Stafford is certain it won’t be exploited to hurt innocent civilians in countries where he has no reach.”

“He’s good like that,” I said. “He pretends to be ice, but he’s actually fire.”

A door on the side lifted upward, and Noah stepped out, looking divine in a dark gray suit that was like coal, fueling the power of his bright green eyes, which he fixed on me, full of burning sins that stopped my breath and made my knees weak.

He offered me his hand. “Watch your step,” he cautioned. “It’s steep.”

I hopped up, and he steadied me, our bodies pressed together, ready to fly within the lovely darkness.

“Your scent is intoxicating,” he whispered provocatively so only I could hear.

“I’m not wearing perfume. It’s forbidden.”

He ran his fingers through my hair. “I know. I prefer your natural scent, all of it.”

Once we were settled in the helicopter, facing each other, the pilot took off. Around us, spotlights flashed in the sky, beckoning those by land, those by sea, and those by air to experience the sweat and fetishes of the city. I tried to take it all in, but we soon landed, our flight as short as Peter had predicted.

“Is this the roof of your penthouse?” I asked, gathering my bearings based on the buildings around us. There were no fiber optic trees, but there were fairy lights strung from actual trees, narrow saplings potted around the concrete. In the distance, I spotted a hot tub, and off to the side, a table had been set up.

“It is,” Noah said, lifting me away from the helicopter so that it could leave.

“We could have walked,” I reckoned.

As he sat me down, he kept his body close to mine. “Tonight isn’t about sensibility. It’s about sensuality,” he murmured, drawing me in with the silk of his voice. It put me in a trance that made my thighs wet, ready to spread for him.

Remembering the table and the two waiters who stood next to it, I broke away from his hold, shy with an audience watching us. “Are we having dinner?”

“Dinner. And a lesson.”

By the smolder of his eyes, I knew it was a lesson I’d greatly enjoy. “I look forward to it,” I said and sauntered to the table in my slippers.

Dressed with a white tablecloth, that table contained shiny gold cutlery that reflected the flames of several candles. Strewn around the candles were a ponds worth of lotus blossoms.

“It’s beautiful,” I said to Noah. “Thank you for this. And thank you for the dress.”

“The dress is entirely for my pleasure,” he said, pulling my chair out for me. “The rest of the evening will be for yours.”

As soon as we were seated, the waiters, both men in red dinner jackets, served a green rocket salad with strawberries and a chocolate vinaigrette dressing. Starved, I shoved a forkful into my mouth. I’d skipped lunch, buried in my work.

“Slow down,” Noah ordered me sternly, less the man I knew from the night of the storm and more the man I knew every day at the office. “Savor the sweetness of the strawberries, the bitterness of the chocolate. Enjoy your food. Be mindful of every small flavor that lingers on your tongue.”

Closing my eyes, I obeyed. As if I were wine tasting, I searched for notes within the food I otherwise would have missed. Doing so, I experienced a hint of walnut in the vinaigrette, and that the rocket salad had coated the strawberries with a smoky flavor that rounded out their sweetness. “Wow,” I murmured in my indulgence.