Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
For some weird reason, I blush.
“I knew it. Here.” She opens her purse, takes two silver packets out, reaches into my purse, and puts them in. Then she pulls away and winks. “There. You’re all set to go.”
“Somehow, I don’t think I’ll need them, but thanks.”
She crosses her arms under her breasts. “Bet my life you’ll need them.”
“Stop betting your life on stupid things,” I scold. “Anyway, I better go. Remember, I’ll have my cell phone so call me if you need me.”
“Stop worrying about me. I can take care of myself. See you early tomorrow. Breakfast is at eight. Remember we have a full day before our flight.”
“I’ll be there well before that,” I promise.
“I’ll be expecting details in the morning,” she calls gaily, as I walk towards Rocco.
I lift my hand in a wave without turning around.
There is a midnight-blue Rolls Royce waiting for us outside. He opens the door closest to the sidewalk and settles me into the seat, before walking around to the other side. The inside of the car is very plush and redolent with the smell of new leather and Christmas candles. I sink into the soft leather with a sigh. The man and the girl in the room seem like a dream, or a mirage I created in my imagination now.
I touch my temples. I must have drunk too much alcohol. There is an incessant throbbing in my head.
“Headache?” Rocco asks.
“Just a slight one,” I admit. “Sam and I have been on the champagne all day long. If you have a couple of headache tablets that would be great.”
“Lie back and relax. I have just the thing for you in my apartment.”
I lay back and close my eyes. The car journey is very smooth, but I feel my headache getting worse and worse. Thankfully, not too long later, I hear his voice say softly, “We’re here.”
I open my eyes and look around. We are parked in front of a tall building. There is a doorman in a long black coat at the door who rushes forward to open my door and greets me politely. We walk to a lift with chrome doors. The doors open and we enter.
Rocco inserts a black card into a slot above the console and the car begins to move. Silently, we ride up to the penthouse on the 67th floor. The doors open to a sort of foyer, or a layer of security between the elevator and apartment. Rocco puts a different card key into the heavy door and we enter his apartment.
The ceilings are at least twenty feet high and there is an amazing glass staircase leading up to the first floor.
“Have a seat while I get you something for your headache,” he says over his shoulder as he disappears from view.
I move into the vast space. It is exactly how I imagined a very rich bachelor would live. It’s all polished glass, black leather, and chrome. The only thing that stands out as different is the artwork, for the walls are full of stunning old masterpieces. Some I have seen in books, and some I have never ever seen, which can only mean they have never been recorded. They have just belonged to his family ever since they were painted.
As I am standing under one that I think looks very much like a Vermeer, but the world has never heard of, he returns holding a glass with a brownish liquid in it.
“What is that?”
“Just some herbs and leaves. It will keep you from getting a hangover.”
“Are you sure it’s not some date rape drug?” I tease, taking the glass.
His lips twist. “Do you really think I need a date-rape drug?”
I sniff it. It smells very herby. “Does it taste horrible?”
He shrugs. “Depends if you prefer having a headache or two seconds of bitter medicine.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you that Sam and I tried to come up the mountain to your house on Friday, but halfway up, a huge boulder broke off the mountain and came crashing down on the road. It crashed only a few meters in front of us. My car skidded and nearly went off the road. It was terrifying for a few moments I really thought it was the end of us, but as you can see, we made it out alive, though my car is history. But it’s okay, it was an old car. The main thing is we were both safe. The amazing thing is by the time we walked down the mountain, your men had cleared up the road, and Raoul was driving down the mountain on his way to the bar. He stopped and gave us a lift home.”
“Yes, Raoul told me about your accident. Since it is my fault for deliberately keeping the roads dangerous and unstable, I have replaced your car.”