22. Ruby
Chapter 22
Ruby
“ W hat do you think?”
I turn and look at Henry.
What do I think?
Is he kidding?
This is unbelievable.
Last night, I told him I felt like things were going well in Emerald and that I had done everything I needed to for April and Elliot. He agreed.
Then I told him I needed to prepare for my move to New Orleans and that I thought it would be better to get everything in place before Scarlett and Cian returned to Emerald. I need to get out of their way sooner versus later so they can settle into their new married-couple routine. He said he understood.
Then, in typical Henry fashion, he arranged for us to use the O’Grady’s private jet, and less than twenty-four hours later, I’m standing in the middle of the living room of a luxury four-bedroom, four-bath apartment in the warehouse district of New Orleans.
“Do you like it?” he asks when I haven’t answered after several seconds.
Of course he wasn’t going to let me find my own apartment. Of course he took over. Of course he’s going to insist on approving wherever I live.
And the guy has impeccable taste.
If you’re a member of the royal fucking family of Cara.
The apartment is breathtaking.
We’re on the top floor of the building in a corner unit. The ceiling soars at least sixteen feet above us. Two of the apartment’s walls are exposed brick. The floor is Brazilian hardwood—I wouldn’t have known that if the listing didn’t say that— and the living room area is covered with a gorgeous, multicolored woven rug.
Natural light spills into the apartment through floor-to-ceiling windows that are covered by gauzy white curtains. The same windows are replicated in the master bedroom. There are also French doors off the kitchen that open onto a private balcony that overlooks the center courtyard that boasts a gorgeous stone fountain and a plethora of plants and flowers around the stone patio with adorable round wrought iron tables and chairs.
The whole apartment comes furnished, from the bisque-colored, four-piece sectional sofa to the I-don’t-even-know-how-many–inches-large flatscreen television mounted on the wall to the chef’s kitchen with stone countertops, stainless steel appliances, dishes, pots, and pans, and even dish towels, that are more plush than the nicest bath towel I’ve ever owned.
The enormous four-poster bed in the master suite is the type of bed I imagined celebrities were sleeping on in the high-end hotels in downtown New Orleans when they visited.
Each bedroom has an ensuite bathroom. The master has both a glass-encased rainfall shower and a clawfoot soaker tub that’s deep enough that I feel I might need to buy a snorkel.
“It’s gorgeous. Absolutely,” I tell him.
He nods as if that was exactly the answer he was expecting. “I’m glad you think so.”
“It’s also over the top,” I add. “Of course.”
Henry found this place. Or had some highly paid real estate agent who only deals with people who have seven figures or more in their bank account find this place.
Henry has also informed me that he’s going to be paying for this place.
I get it. I’m leaving Emerald, leaving him, I’m going to be out of reach, he’s not going to be able to just bop down to the coffee shop and make sure everyone is treating me well.
But this is too much.
I do really love it, though.
“It’s exactly the kind of place I want to picture you in,” he tells me. “I would love it if you would turn one of the bedrooms into an office. A place where you can study.”
I spread my arms and turn a three-sixty. “There are so many places I can study. The gorgeous dining table,” I say, pointing to the huge cherrywood table that seats eight, for fuck’s sake. “The breakfast bar. The couch. The balcony. My bedroom. I could easily put a desk in there.”
“So you do intend to fill the bedrooms up with adoptees at the first chance you get.”
I grin. I was surprised when he showed me a place with four bedrooms. “You think I’ll find roommates?”
“No, I think you’ll find people that need some help and you’ll let them move in for free.”
He knows me so well. “I promise to do background checks.”
“Yes,” he says firmly. “You will.”
“And I’ll make one a guestroom for when you visit.”
He takes the three steps that separate us and looms over me. I know he thinks that’s supposed to be intimidating, but I find it adorable. And hot.
“I intend to tie your wrists and ankles to that four-poster bed the second I walk in here and not untie you until I need to leave.”
“Is that your way of saying you don’t need turn-down service in the guest room?” I asked as lust swirls through me, imagining that scenario.
It’s going to suck only seeing him on occasion, and I’m not sure I’m long-distance relationship material. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m not. I like to be right on top of the people I love, up in their business, seeing them, hugging them, taking care of them every single day.
He is too.
But I’m willing to try this with Henry.
“That’s my way of saying that if you think I’m going to be anywhere but glued to your pretty side when I’m in the city, you’re a little nuttier than I thought.”
“This place is great,” I tell him. “But I want to show you the place I found. It’s closer to school.”
I would love to live in this place. But the warehouse district is not walkable to Loyola. I could bike or take the street car but that’s at least a thirty-minute trip. I could drive, but I don’t want to deal with parking. Getting a place closer to school and being able to walk makes the most sense. And I happen to know just the place.
“You can move into this place today,” he says. He dangles the keys. “It’s ready for you.”
That is tempting. The apartment literally has everything I need. I’d need to have Scarlett and Mariah ship my things—clothes, books, a few personal items—from home, but I can replace my toiletries here, and I obviously not bringing anything large, like furniture, from Ohio. I keep thinking the sooner I get moved, the easier everything will be.
“Just let me show you the other place.”
He sighs and gestures toward the door, but says as he follows me out, “Getting you to and from class is obviously not a problem. That’s what Sammy is for. In part.”
I stop, and he literally bumps into me. I turn. “Sammy? The guy who’s driving us around today?”
I wasn’t surprised that Henry had hired a town car driver for us today. He definitely seems like the type to have other people drive him around when possible. And it has been nice. Sammy is a fifty-eight-year-old white man with a wife and six grandkids, who has lived in New Orleans his whole life, has a delightful Louisiana accent, can make a pot of grits that will change my life, and knows the city like the back of his hand.
He picked us up from the airport, dropped us off at lunch and waited for us, then brought us over here. My understanding was that Henry has hired him for the entire day. Possibly for the whole time we’re in town.
“Yes. But he’s more than a driver. He’ll be your… assistant.”
“What do I need an assistant for?” I ask.
“Well, transportation for one,” Henry says. “He’ll also be taking care of the apartment, shopping, cooking, running whatever errands you have. Generally, just taking care of everything you need so that you can focus on studying.”
“You hired me a butler?” I say.
“I hired you someone to help you out,” Henry says.
“That is…” I shake my head. “Henry, we need to have a talk about your over-the-top spending habits.”
He pushes the button to call the elevator and says, “Do we?”
“We absolutely do.”
The elevator arrives quickly, probably because there are only eight units in this building. Henry ushers me into the car. “Can you give me an example? Something I bought that was completely ridiculous, with no worth at all?”
“Sammy,” I say.
“Sammy is a Marine Corps veteran who worked as private security for a prominent family here in town, but he’s been out of full-time work for a couple of years because of a back surgery that didn’t go as expected. He’s been doing some driving and we’ve hired him a couple of times when we’ve been in town. I asked him about the other services, and he was excited. He’ll take good care of you. You’re going to need the extra help so that you can focus on school. I am helping you out, taking care of you, which you know is very important to me, and I’m giving Sammy a job.”
I blow out a breath. Okay, so that one is borderline ridiculous, but it has some merit. “What about just buying Dan’s bar? You didn’t need to do that.”
“It gave Dan more money than he ever would’ve earned with that bar, allows me to help everyone in the bar out, including April, and I’ve really enjoyed it.” He lifts a brow. “It’s okay that I enjoy the things I spend my own money on, Ruby.” His tone sounds mildly offended.
I roll my eyes. “Obviously.”
“What else?” he asks as we step off the elevator and cross the small lobby. “When I bought all of those things for April and Elliot the first night at your house?”
I sigh and shake my head. “No, that was very nice.”
“How about the renovation I’m going to do on the bar? Where I’m expanding and making the kids’ area bigger and nicer?”
Ugh, he’s so frustrating. Because he’s right and knows it. “No, not that either.”
“Oh, probably the private jet we flew here on, right?”
I lift a shoulder as Sammy pulls up at the curb, and Henry opens the door for me. “Well, that probably was more than we needed.”
“But you really liked it,” Henry says as I slide into the back of the long black car. “Especially how soft and wide that bench seat is at the back.”
My cheeks heat as I think about how Henry fucked me on that bench seat on the way here.
He’s making me a bigger fan of not wearing panties, that’s for sure.
“So, you’re okay with the private plane?” he asks.
Instead of answering, I ask, “How about this?” as Sammy pulls away from the curb and heads toward the address I gave him earlier. “You know about swear jars? Every time someone says a bad word, they have to put money in the jar?”
He nods.
“Every time you spend money on something over the top, you have to donate money to a charity.”
Henry laughs. “Okay, how much?”
“Ten thousand dollars,” I toss out.
He nods. “Deal. And you’re the judge of when something is over the top?”
I grin and nod.
“Fine. But I have a better idea. I’ll just put the ten k into an account in your name. Then you can do the donating. Any charity, whenever you want.”
I actually feel a little thrill at that.
He leans in, reading me well as always. “Do you like that idea?”
“I’ve always wanted to just write a big-ass check to some amazing charity I love.”
Obvious pleasure crosses his face. “We can make that happen.”
We pull up in front of the apartment building that I want Henry to see, but before I even open the door, Henry says, “No.”
“You haven’t even looked at it.”
“It’s a dump. And there’s no security. You’re not living here.”
I turn on the seat. “This is where Scarlett and I lived when we lived in New Orleans.”
He stares at me, then looks back at the building. “No, you didn’t. You’re messing with me.”
“Swear to God. I can show you photos. Or I can get Scarlett on the phone.”
“Jesus,” he growls. Then he shakes his head. “No. You are not living here. You deserve better.”
“You know that people actually do live here, right?”
“Fine.” He pulls his phone out and starts typing.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m buying the building. And renovating it.”
I stare at him and then realize that, yes, of course, he’s serious. “Henry! These people can’t afford an increase in rent!”
He frowns at me. “Bloody hell, Ruby, I’m not going to raise their rent. But I can make that place nicer to live in.”
“How long will that take? Can I move in before the renovations are finished?”
His eyes narrow. “You’re going to live in that gorgeous apartment in the warehouse district and let Sammy drive you to and from class.”
“I could walk to class from here. I looked it up. It’s a thirteen-minute walk. I probably even walk faster than average.”
He sighs as if I am the bane of his existence. “What about when it’s raining?”
“I’ll use an umbrella. Like everyone does.”
“What about when you’re studying late and it’s dark and you're alone?”
“I’ll call an Uber, or I’ll carry pepper spray, or I’ll?—”
“No. You are dating a multimillionaire who works for a prince. You are going to live in a gorgeous apartment and have a driver who also helps you out with normal everyday activities. If that’s over the top, I will put ten thousand dollars a week into that account for you to donate to charity.”
I open my mouth to object. But then close it again.
He’s right. He has the money. He wants to do this for me. This is his way of taking care of me, which is as important to Henry as almost anything. I know how that feels. And if I had the kind of money Henry has, I would absolutely insist on spending it on Scarlett and Mariah and April and my mother and everyone else who is important to me. Even Henry.
Plus, he’s not wrong about me walking around at night. I will almost certainly be studying late sometimes.
And that apartment is gorgeous and Sammy needs a job. And there are a ton of charities I would love to donate money to.
Finally, I just lean across the seat, brace my hand next to his thigh, and kiss him.
He cups the back of my head and, of course, deepens the kiss, turning it hot along with sweet.
When I lean back, I say, “Okay.”
He studies my face for a long moment, then he says simply, “Thank you.”
This man is thanking me for letting him spend crazy amounts of money on me.
But I get it.
I get him.
“So that settled,” he says. “There’s someplace I want to take you. Where I’d like us to go to dinner and stay overnight.”
“I’m up for whatever.”
“It’s in Autre.”
Autre. The tiny little town along the bayou where Henry and Cian lived before Cian came to Emerald. It’s where Cian’s sister Fiona and her daughter Saoirse live now. Scarlett visited once with Cian and told me all about it.
I know this town and these people mean a lot to Henry. “I’d love to go to Autre with you, Henry.”
“Sammy, do you know how to get to Autre?” Henry asks.
“You bet. I hear there’s some damn good gumbo down there.”
“You can consider it all you can eat,” Henry tells him.
“This gig just keeps getting better and better,” Sammy says.
And I have to agree. This gig is better than anything I’ve ever dreamed of.