Chapter 5
5
JOBE
There is barely any standing room at the cocktail bar, not exactly what I had in mind when I came to see Zara. We were supposed to be at a Michelin-star restaurant having a quiet dinner.
The table is in the far back corner, where we are squeezed around it, and the closeness of everyone has my teeth on edge. If I’m going to be surrounded by fucking kids, I’m going to need something strong to cope.
Needing an excuse to escape, I offer to head over to the bar and buy the drinks, where I wait forever to be served, then make my way back to the table. In the crowded space, I juggle too many brightly colored cocktails and a neat whiskey—not my label of choice, but it will do.
A girl bounces around in my face. “Hi. Is one of these for me?” She offers a sultry look as though I’m simply going to hand one over. After waiting twenty minutes to order, if she lays one finger on the glass, I’ll fucking walk out .
She gives me a wink as though she’s only playing and squeezes past me, knocking me off balance, and some of my cocktail spills out onto the floor.
Why am I here?
When you have a sister-in-law begging for you to check in on her best friend with tears streaming down her cheek, then you do it. Admittedly, I also wanted to desperately see Zara. The unspoken words between us about a certain night are driving me crazy.
She’s pretending it didn’t happen, and that hurts. I wanted to offer an explanation of my sudden disappearance to ensure her it wasn’t rejection. It’s quite the opposite since a woman has never spooked me as much as Zara did.
When I get back to the table, Zara is waiting alone. “Everyone left. They said it’s too busy and went somewhere else.”
She stares at me as I set the drinks on the high table. “You didn’t go with them?”
She shrugs. “I didn’t want to run out on you while you were at the bar buying me and my friend drinks. It wasn’t the right thing to do.”
“Thank you,” I offer, sliding both cocktails in front of her. It’s typical of Zara to do the right thing . It’s why I need to ask for a favor. She drains the cocktail through a straw in seconds. I raise an eyebrow. “Can you at least sip it? I’m not keen to get back in that line.”
Zara drains the second glass just as quickly. “Drink up,” she says. “I want to leave.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, it’s not really my thing.”
Nor mine. “Where did your friends go?”
“It’s not that. I want to go home.”
I throw my whiskey back and stand, holding out my hand to take hers. I know if I don’t keep hold of her, I’ll lose her in the crowd. It’s only when we make it to the doors that I let go of her hand to wipe down my suit jacket. There’s enough alcohol spilled over me to fill another bottle. It will need to be dry-cleaned or tossed in the damn trash.
We walk to the street, and I tap on my cell to call my driver. “Thank you for coming,” she says gently. “I could see you were struggling in there. I should’ve said no to my friends, but I wanted to test you, and it was wrong of me.”
I finish speaking to Ben, then end the call and ask, “Test me how?”
Zara shrugs.
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Pop your shoulders. A flippant attitude is disrespectful.” She rolls her eyes. “And so is that. Tell me… what’s on your mind. It’s better than the guessing game we have going on.” I wasn’t one to beat around the bush. It was more productive to get straight to the point.
“Do you really care about me?”
“Of course, I care about you.”
Her eyes assess me before looking away to the busy road. A red double-decker bus drives past, and the sight makes her slightly smile. She looks at her feet and then back at me. “You’re here for Penny, and while it’s sweet, I have told her I’m fine. Now I’m telling you I’m doing okay and don’t need a minder because it’s frustrating the hell out of me.”
Ben pulls up, and I open the door for her. Zara just stands there like she doesn’t want to get in. “Zara?”
“If you’re here because of Penny, then I don’t need to see you anymore. But if you’re here because you want to be, then…” She pulls her coat around her shoulders and looks down the road.
“Then what?”
She fucking shrugs again .
“Get in, Zara. We’ll talk about this at yours.”
“Don’t go to mine. There’s barely any room. I have no food, and to be honest, I’m starving. I’m happier to drive through a burger joint.”
“We are not driving through a takeout restaurant.” I close her door and stride around the other side. “To my penthouse, please, Ben.”
Her eyes round. “You have your own penthouse here?”
“Of course I do. Where else do you think I stay?”
“The Ritz?”
I chuckle. “Good guess.”
She stares out the window for the remainder of the drive, taking in the lights of the old-world buildings, the architecture signifying royalty. It’s why I enjoy being here and how it differs from home.
“Are we in Westminster?” Zara murmurs.
“Millbank.”
“Isn’t this where Robert Pattinson lives?” I wait for her to explain further, and she rolls her eyes. “The hot vampire in Twilight. ”
“It’s a beautiful part of the city,” I note, not entertaining her question as Ben parks near the entrance to the building I call home while in London. Instead, I offer, “We’ll take a walk in the daylight. I think you’ll like it.” Sliding out of the back seat, I offer a hand to help Zara out, closing the door behind her. She then follows me inside, past reception, where we take a private elevator to the sixth-floor penthouse. “There are five bedrooms, so you’re welcome to crash here anytime.”
“Thanks.” She frowns. “Does anyone else live here?”
“No. Why?”
“Five bedrooms. That’s huge, considering I’m staying in a hotel room where you can barely swing a cat. I assumed with the lack of skyrise apartments there is a housing shortage.”
“Everything has a price.” I pour myself a whiskey, one I’ll enjoy. “The Italian restaurant downstairs is open until midnight,” I offer, handing her a menu. “You said you’re starving. Choose something.”
Zara shakes her head. “No thanks. I probably won’t stay long.”
“Stay long enough to eat.” I pluck the menu from her and add, “I’ll get you the prawn linguine. It’ll be a hell of a lot better than fast food.” With a quick dial, I place the order downstairs. “A cup of tea while you wait?”
She smiles. “I’m still not a tea drinker.”
“I thought you were blending…”
“Ha.” She turns in a circle, surveying the penthouse living room. “This is fancy, although I’m not surprised. You’re a Hendricks, so only the best.”
Her annoyed tone irritates me. “Is that a problem for you?”
“No.” She shakes her head, and her tangled emotions are immersed in the solitary word. “I don’t know why I’m here. I really should go.”
Before she takes the first step, I’m in her face. “I assumed we were going to talk.” I take her hand and lead her to the bar. The moment I stare into her brown eyes, I’m captivated. Noir chocolate eyes. Sexy. Mysterious and a touch dangerous. It’s what attracted me to Zara the moment we met. Her sass is a bonus. I force my gaze away from her lure and mix her a gin and tonic. “Come and sit with me. It’s too beautiful a view to adore alone.” Removing my tie, I loosen the top buttons of my shirt. “Come.”
Taking both glasses, I lead her onto the terrace.
Zara inhales but doesn’t say a word. I felt the same way when the agent showed me the apartment a year ago. The breathtaking views of the Thames and Houses of Parliament remind me of the abundant wealth in London, and I’m adding a nice portfolio to the Hendricks family name.
The hundred-foot private stone terrace is supported by huge round stone pillars, giving it a modern castle feel. Ficus trees trimmed into perfectly round balls offer the final touch of opulence. It’s a stark contrast to my home in LA and a refreshing one, a small piece of the pie I’m after since London is one of the top luxury capitals of the world.
I point to the chairs. “Sit with me.”
Zara takes a few mouthfuls of her gin before sitting. “Bringing me here is a form of bragging. If you wanted to talk or have company, we could have gone for a walk along the river.”
“You want to take a walk?”
“Not now,” she says bluntly, wrapping her arms around her waist as she stares toward Westminster Bridge.
I stand and slip off my suit jacket, draping it around her shoulders. “What’s next for you, Zara?”
“For dessert?”
I smile at the first suggestion that comes to mind. “No.” I take the seat beside her, lean back, and swirl the whiskey in the glass. “In life.”
“What everyone else wants. World peace.” She shakes her head as though it’s a dumb question.
“My question was directed to London. I was under the impression you needed a change, and when I helped set up a job, I assumed you would take it as the first step in a career change. Yet I get the feeling you’re on a gap year from college and working to pay for your party lifestyle.”
“What?”
I take a sip of whiskey without looking at her, as I know I’m getting on her nerves. “You’re still living in a hotel and probably blowing your money. ”
“What do you want me to do? I knew no one, and affordable rent was hard to find. I’m making new friends and asking if anyone wants to share a place with me.” Now she’s really pissed. “For your information, I am taking on extra projects and working on them some evenings. You simply don’t see it. Besides, we don’t all have access to the Hendricks’ limitless funds.” She throws back her drink and stands, tossing my jacket on the chair. “Thanks for the evening. It’s been pleasant as always.” She glares at me when I don’t respond. “You’re an ass.”
In perfect timing, the door buzzer sounds. I get up and sidestep her, purposely ignoring Zara’s remark. “You might change your mind about me being an ass after you taste the dish I ordered.”
“You know what you can do with your dish…” she calls out as I leave to answer the door.
I laugh to myself. We’ll see. I tip the pasta into fine China and get her some cutlery, tossing the bamboo fork in the trash. “Despite what you think of me, try it before you say no.” I hand her the bowl and take a seat beside her.
She mumbles what sounds like ‘thank you’ before taking a bite and closes her eyes, making a pleasurable sound. “Oh my God, this is divine.” With each mouthful, she releases a groan, sparking something inside me.
I wait for her to take the next bite to say what is on my mind. “I have an offer for you since you’re a friend of the family.”
She swallows the pasta. “Yeah? What is it?” she asks quickly without looking at me.
“You could stay here, rent-free. Save your money and climb the corporate ladder since you’re more qualified than anyone else in that office.”
She chokes on the last mouthful. “What do you know about my office?” She pokes her fork toward me. “I have been working hard late at night and some weekends to appeal to my boss as a dedicated worker and in good stead for the next promotion.” Her eyes round. “Wait. You want me to live with you ?” she questions condescendingly. “Are you mad? We’ll argue all the time, and you’ll get evicted,” she says and laughs as though imagining it.
I wait for her mind to calm before saying more. “While the offer is to stay here rent-free, I would need a favor from you in return.”
“Here we go. I knew you wouldn’t do something that didn’t help you in some way. What is it? I want to know, even though my answer is never in a million years could I live with you.”
Ouch.
“Firstly, you wouldn’t be living with me all the time. I’m here for a week once a month. So you get three weeks to yourself. While I am here, we’ll still live our own lives.”
She tilts her head, listening yet not convinced. “I can do the math.”
“I’ll work long hours, which is to your benefit. But there will be rules like no parties. It’s the building’s rule, not mine.”
“It’s irrelevant, but you haven’t mentioned the favor?”
“I’m building relations while merging with a finance company here. To keep it short, I liaise with Harrison as he manages everything. However, his father, Sir James, owns everything and oversees it to the point of having the final say.” I check she is keeping up. “He’s a family man, and for some reason, he doesn’t trust me.”
She laughs, and I give her a moment to revel in her glee. “Oh, my God, you’re serious. I think I like Sir James already.”
“Good. Because I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend and accompany me on dinner dates with Sir James’ family.”
Zara’s eyes widen, and her mouth falls open. “Are you high?”
It’s the reaction I was expecting. But I’m desperate for Sir James to consider my offer, and for that to happen, I need to appear settled in my personal life. It seems the man can smell a playboy a mile away, and he thinks I’ll treat his company with the same abandon as my lovers. “Before you say no, let me show you around the apartment. You’ll see how we’ll easily manage residing together with our living quarters so far apart. Think of it as a business agreement and helping each other out.”
I stand to lead Zara inside, but she doesn’t make a move to follow. “I don’t care how luxurious your penthouse is. I can’t pretend to be your girlfriend. It will be a disaster, and Sir James will see through the lie. It won’t end well for either of us.”