Chapter 16 #2
“Are you sure?”
“Certain.” I shot Anna another scowl, but she just shrugged like she didn’t see the problem. I didn’t want Matthew babying me, and I definitely didn’t want to see a doctor. I had enough on my plate tonight without my father worrying about me being sick.
“We should probably get going,” I said before Anna could add anything else.
“Of course.” He stood to the side and gestured for me to go ahead of him, but I raised a hand. “Just give me one second.”
He nodded his understanding. “I’ll wait by the car. It was lovely to meet you girls.” He smiled at Cress and Anna.
“You too, Mr. LaFleur” they chimed in response.
I hovered by my friends as I watched him walk down the steps and over to the waiting SUV.
“Okay, wish me luck,” I said to the girls.
“Good luck,” Cress replied. “You won’t need it though. It’s just your dad.”
“Your superhot dad,” Anna added with a whisper. “Why didn’t you tell us he was so dreamy?”
I thumped her in the arm. Hard. “You did not just say that.”
“What? He is.”
I shook my head and did my best to ignore her. I did not want to think about whether my father was good-looking, let alone discuss it with my friends.
“Enjoy the sushi,” I called out as I jogged down the steps. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back.”
When I reached the car, Matthew was waiting by an open door, and he stood back to let me in. I gave my friends a brief wave before he closed the door behind me. The driver in the front seat nodded at me in the rearview mirror.
Matthew slid into the seat beside me, and once his seat belt was fastened, the car pulled away from the curb.
My fingers fidgeted at the hem of my sweater as I considered launching into one of the many questions I had for my father.
I wasn’t sure the car was the right place to ask him, especially with his driver in the front seat, but it was hard to wait when it was all I could think about. I’d been wanting answers for weeks.
“I’m sorry to hear you’ve been unwell. Are you truly feeling better?” Matthew asked.
He sounded so concerned, and I found myself holding back a smile.
Noah was convinced my father was a terrible person, and maybe I would have agreed when I’d first met the man.
He hadn’t given me the best first impression.
But the more I got to know him, the harder I found it to believe that was possible.
Maybe I was being na?ve. Maybe when I finally got a chance to question him, I wouldn’t like what I discovered.
“I’m still a bit queasy,” I replied. “But I’m not going to be sick or anything.”
“Do you feel up to having dinner with me? I can drop you back if you’d rather rest.”
“No!” I protested the idea a little too forcefully. “No, I’m okay. I promise.”
He slowly nodded. “But if you start to take a turn for the worse, just let me know.”
“I will.” I highly doubted I would. At least, not before I’d had a chance to talk with him properly.
The traffic was bad as we drove to Matthew’s place, and the constant sound of horns and the flashes of brake lights surrounded us.
We moved at such a crawling pace I wondered if it might be quicker to walk.
I couldn’t imagine Matthew walking anywhere though, especially not in the expensive suit and strikingly shiny shoes he wore.
His place wasn’t far from Cress’s though, and despite the traffic, the car pulled over not long after we’d set out.
“Here we are,” Matthew said as the driver got out of the car and came to open my door.
I stepped from the car and craned my neck back to look at the building that reached impossibly high into the sky above us.
Matthew lived here? I shouldn’t have been surprised considering the gorgeous home he’d purchased in Weybridge and the skyscraper that housed the headquarters for his business.
I followed him in through the revolving doors at the front of the building and gasped as I got my first look at the foyer of Matthew’s New York home.
The place was incredibly lavish with white marble coating almost every surface and shiny gold finishings on all the doors and light fittings.
It was opulent but also light and bright—surprisingly so, considering we were on the ground floor of a high-rise building.
“Good evening, Mr. LaFleur, Miss Grace.” An older man in a deep-green suit smiled at us from behind a desk as we entered the foyer. He came around to greet us as we approached.
“Good evening, Edward,” Matthew replied. “Have you had a good day?”
“It was very good, thank you, sir. And yourself ?”
“Hectic,” Matthew admitted with a chagrinned smile.
“I would expect nothing less,” Edward replied, smiling back. He walked beside us to the elevator as he spoke.
“Did you catch the game this afternoon?” Matthew asked.
Edward blanched. “Oh yes, it was terrible.”
Matthew’s eyes widened a fraction with surprise. “Worse than last week?”
“Much worse.”
“So I shouldn’t bother watching the highlights?”
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t recommend it, sir.”
“Okay.” My father laughed and shook his head. “Thanks for the warning.”
When we reached the elevator, Edward pressed the button for us. The doors spread wide immediately, and he held them open as he gestured for us to walk inside.
“Will you be needing anything this evening, sir?” he asked.
“No, nothing tonight. Thank you, Edward.”
“Have a lovely evening,” the man replied, pressing the button for the top floor.
Once the doors were closed, I turned to my father. “He was nice.”
“Yes, Edward’s great,” my father agreed. “He certainly makes this place feel a little more like home. It’s nice to have someone around who I can talk football with. We follow the same team although I think we’re both regretting that choice at the moment. They aren’t doing very well this year.”
“Are you talking about soccer?” I asked. “You like soccer?”
“Well, I call it football, but yes. I don’t get much time to watch the games these days, but Edward keeps me up to date.”
“Huh.” I frowned and faced the elevator doors once more. Every time I thought I had Matthew pegged, he said something or acted in a way that shifted my perception of him. I tried to picture him sitting down with a beer and watching a soccer match, but I just couldn’t visualize it.
I was still trying to wrap my mind around the idea when the doors opened.
I expected to see a hallway in front of me, lined with doors to various apartments.
Instead, I was greeted by the entrance to an entire apartment.
Matthew’s home wasn’t just on the top floor.
It was the top floor. The space before us was a vast open-plan space with huge floor-to-ceiling windows.
The view beyond truly caught my attention.
I could see all of New York from here. It was breathtaking.
“Good evening, sir, Miss Isobel,” Caldwell said as we stepped from the elevator and into the apartment. I’d been so busy admiring the view, I hadn’t noticed he was there even though he was standing right by the elevator.
“Caldwell,” my father replied. “Are there any messages for me?”
“Nothing urgent,” Caldwell said. “Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes. I passed on your instructions regarding Miss Isobel to Jacques.”
I wondered who Jacques was and what the instructions could be, but Matthew was already dismissing Caldwell before I got a chance to ask.
“Thank you,” Matthew said. “That will be all for now.”
Caldwell stepped away, and Matthew gestured for me to follow him into the apartment. “I only bought the place recently,” he said, as we moved through the unnecessarily large entrance. “I couldn’t resist it when I saw the view.”
“I can see why,” I whispered. It was incredible, but I couldn’t begin to imagine how much the view alone cost.
“Would you like to see the place before we eat?” he asked.
“Sure.”
Matthew’s tour was much more thorough than Cress’s had been.
He showed me around the bottom level first, which included the living room, dining area, and kitchen.
There was music coming from the kitchen as we approached, and Matthew opened the door to reveal a man cutting vegetables behind a long island bench in the center of the room.
Matthew gave him a smile. “Isobel, this is our chef, Jacques” he said. “He’s worked for me for almost ten years now and makes the most incredible desserts you’ll ever have the pleasure of eating.”
Jacques lifted his eyes and nodded at Matthew before turning to me. I raised a hand to wave, and the chef winked in response before focusing back on the food he was preparing.
Matthew backed from the room, and I got the impression he didn’t want to bother the chef too much while he was working.
As we continued the tour, he pointed at another door that led to his study but then directed me up the stairs and showed me multiple bedrooms, a library, what looked like another living room, and another study as well as a room totally devoted to a home theater.
I’d lost count of how many bathrooms he’d pointed out, and I was surprised to learn there was a third floor in the apartment, which consisted of two bedrooms separated by a long hallway. His bedroom was to the left, but he directed me to the room on the right.
“This room is yours,” he said. His voice quaked a little as he spoke like he was nervous. “You’re welcome to stay here whenever you’re in the city. I’m hoping you’ll be able to visit again soon.”
I nodded because the words stuck in my throat.
Matthew had organized a room for me here too?
I’d been so intent on grilling Matthew about the Hastings family tonight, but as I stood there, I realized this dinner was about so much more than that.
I was flooded by thoughts of our conversation at the ball and his admission to me about how much he wanted me in his life.
I was really beginning to see that he meant it.
This was just a bedroom, and Matthew clearly had plenty to spare, but it meant more to me than he knew.
As he opened the door to show me the room, I wondered if I should backtrack on my previous thought.
It wasn’t just a bedroom. It was practically its own apartment within the apartment.
I had a whole lounge area to myself that was decked out with soft, plush couches and a fireplace against one wall.
The bedroom itself was just as gorgeous as the rest of the apartment with sheer curtains draped over the long windows and a bed so large it could have fit three of me.
There was a huge en suite bathroom and a closet filled with clothing for me. The room even had its own balcony. Not that I had any intention of going out there. We were far too high up for my liking.
Just like it had been downstairs, the view outside the window was impossible to ignore.
I could see the endless expanse of Central Park below me and the jagged New York skyline surrounding it.
I could even see my father’s surname lit up on the top of his building, not far from here.
I probably could have sat there staring at the view forever.
It was hard not to be a little overwhelmed by it all.
I knew Matthew was wealthy, but this was beyond my wildest dreams. A familiar feeling that I’d been experiencing ever since I got to Weybridge came washing over me. I didn’t belong here. I’d slowly become accustomed to living at school, but this was a whole other level of extravagance.
“Are you ready for dinner?” Matthew asked.
I’d been standing in silence staring out at the view for slightly too long, and I somehow tore my gaze from it to turn to him.
His lips were curved in a half smile like he understood just how easily the view of New York City could suck you in.
I gave him a nod, but as I went to follow him, I had to wonder how ready I really was.
This was my chance to hear his side of the story. It was finally time to uncover the reason why the LaFleurs hated the Hastings family so much.