37. Alex
37
ALEX
Gabe’s ringtone wakes me from a sound sleep, and I pat the nightstand, searching for my phone. Beside me, Katherine doesn’t wake but the chime and my movement obviously disturb her. She nestles closer, arm draped across my chest.
Finally palming my phone, I answer the call, holding it to my ear. “Hey,” I whisper, not bothering to see what time it is.
Outside, the city twinkles, and a shimmering golden glow lights our bedroom. We couldn’t bring ourselves to close the curtains.
“Hey. Sorry to call so early.”
Years ago, I promised him I’d always answer. Three a.m. Whenever. And I’m not going to break it now. He might have chronic insomnia, but he’s not the type to reach out unless it’s important.
I pull the device from my ear and glance at the time at the top of the screen—just after three-thirty.
“What’s up?”
I slide out from under Katherine slowly, careful not to jostle her, and head for the living room.
“There was a massive flood in the building. Everyone’s been evacuated.”
I blink and run a hand over my face. What the hell is he talking about? A tidal wave? And which building?
I stare at the phone again, trying to figure out if this is all a bizarre dream. But I highly doubt I’d leave Katherine to answer a phone call in my dreams. We have much better things to do.
“Say that again.”
“Our apartment building. It flooded.”
“How? Is everyone okay?”
I pull the phone away again and switch to speakerphone so I can check my messages. There’s a handful from Gabe’s security team saying something about water coming down the elevator shaft. A picture of water spraying from the gaps in the doors. The next one says they’re evacuating the parking garage and the apartments.
I shoot back a quick text, asking them to keep me up to date.
“We’re fine,” he says. “I don’t think anyone’s hurt or anything. It’s just a mess.”
I grapple with what he’s saying, fighting the grogginess of sleep. I need to get in touch with my team. But first, I shoot off another text to a friend who does a bit of investigative work on the side. I want to know everything the building supervisors aren’t going to tell us.
Alex: Need you to look into something for me. Flooding at my apartment building. Let me know if you find anything suspicious.
I shoot over my address. The whole thing could be completely innocent, but after the last week, and with at least three high-profile people living in the same building, I’m not going to risk getting caught with my pants down. I need to know if there’s something nefarious going on. I seriously wouldn’t put it past Lucinda Winthrope to hire a crony to do her dirty work. Hell, she probably keeps one on staff.
“Anyway, I just wanted to let you know so you didn’t hear about it from the news or something. I got us a place to stay while that gets sorted.” His voice softens. Why does he sound so tender? “A brownstone so King doesn’t have to deal with an elevator.”
“Sounds good.”
“I’ll text you the address and any updates.”
“We’re coming home today,” I tell him.
“Good.” His voice drops. “I think King could use a dose of Katherine.”
Can’t we all? “What happened?”
“He gets claustrophobic in elevators. Had a panic attack when it got stuck.”
“The elevator got stuck?”
“It stopped. I don’t know if stuck is the right word. The power went out, I’m guessing because water and electricity... not good bedfellows.”
Okay. That makes sense. And I’m not surprised Kingston had a panic attack. Every time he’s gotten five feet from an elevator, his movements get all robotic. He dives into his phone and I swear he’s either counting his breaths or the floors.
“Is he okay?”
“Yeah. I talked him off the ledge. Then he tried to climb out through the ceiling panels,” he says with a wry laugh.
“That doesn’t exactly sound like a smart solution.” But fear does weird things to people.
A lamp clicks on behind me and I glance over my shoulder to find Katherine wrapped in her robe, hair in a delightful disarray.
“I’ll text you when we take off,” I tell him.
“’K. Fly safe.”
Katherine crosses to me, and I lose my phone before reaching for her. She slides into my arms like she was always meant to be there. Because she was.
“Hey,” she says softly, as if she doesn’t want to disturb the quiet of the night. But I’m pretty sure I disturbed her quiet. “Everything okay?”
God, I love this woman. It’s the middle of the night, and she’s checking on me. It’s such a small thing, yet it feels big. So many people don’t have that.
“Gabe called. There was a flood in our building. They’ve been evacuated.”
“What?” she cries, alarm ringing through the luxurious suite.
I guide her to the sofa. Settling on the cushion, I tug her into my lap. Why is it that anytime her cute little ass is propped on my thigh, everything seems right?
“I don’t know any details yet. Just that they were on the elevator when it happened.”
“Oh my god. I’ve got to call King. He’ll be out of his mind.”
She launches to her feet and races into the bedroom. A handful of seconds later, she returns with her phone, fingers flying over the virtual keys.
“Gabe handled it. King is okay,” I assure her.
She pauses, lifting worried eyes to mine. “He’s been afraid of elevators for as long as I’ve known him.”
I pat my thigh. “Gabe said they’re staying in a brownstone tonight. No elevator needed.”
She visibly relaxes at the news, then curls up in my lap again, tucked tight against my chest. Heavenly.
“His parents bought a brownstone,” she murmurs. “So he wouldn’t have to suffer.”
I can’t imagine trying to live and work in New York City and being terrified of elevators. There’s no land left, so developers just build higher. I can understand why he left.
“No wonder he’s so close to them.”
“Right? They’ve always been considerate.”
Which is the opposite of her own mother. She doesn’t have to say it. We’re both thinking it.
I’m grateful she had the Saints as an example, a refuge when she was growing up. There’s no doubt being a good parent is probably one of the toughest jobs in the world, but it’s always amazing to me just how terrible some are. The things Gabe told me about his childhood were chilling.
I press a kiss into her hair. “I’ll wake up the pilot so we can head home.”
“Wait,” she whispers, hand on my chest. “Don’t wake her. Not yet. There’s nothing we can do right now, anyway, right?”
“Probably not. Gabe’s going to keep me updated, as will my team.”
“So we don’t need to rush.”
“No. I just thought you’d be anxious to get back.” And I’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy, even if it’s sending her back into the arms of her best friend.
She tips her chin up and looks up at me like I hung the moon, a half smile curving her lips. Damn, she’s pretty in the warm Paris glow. “I am. I just don’t want our time here to end, either. Not yet.”