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“He’s a fucking viper. Jordan has dealt with him before.”
“I’m sure he has, as well as JC and Hunter.”
Emma’s brother in law, JC, is also Hunter’s brother, who is married to my other best friend, Rory, which is why I can guess their reactions.
“I still don’t understand the roses.”
I shrug. “I don’t understand Black at all, so I can’t tell you why. It could be one of the million things I did this past week.” I hate lying to Zane. I knew the flowers had something to do with my interaction with Foster early this evening.
Zane nods, then says, “I’m heading to my office to finish up some work. Drink your wine before Lana gets up.”
“I will.”
Zane exits while I put together a salad and add some balsamic vinaigrette dressing before I head out to the terrace. The sun is fading behind the buildings, but the day’s heat hasn’t abated. I eat my dinner while listening to the sounds of the city below, staring out at the greenery of the park.
I still can’t fathom what Foster Black wants from me, but I have a pretty good idea. I also have no intention of having sex with him. He is such a disagreeable person, and regardless of how much money he throws around, I wouldn’t be convinced.
I can’t sleep tonight, and long after Zane and Lana went to bed, I prowl the apartment. My mind was going in a million directions about Foster. What the hell would someone like him want with me? By two in the morning, I make myself a cup of chamomile tea with the hopes that it would soothe me enough to fall asleep. As I sit at the counter, the fragrance of roses wafts into my nose.
Standing up, I lean over to cup two of the roses and pull them toward me, but quickly yank my hand away when a thorn pricks my finger. Blood oozes from the wound, rolling down my thumb. I suck at it, tasting copper on my tongue. When I withdraw it, the blood has stopped flowing. Staring at it, I realize that it’s a sign that the only thing Foster could offer me is pain.
The clock read 3:42 AM when I laid my head on the pillow again, this time falling into a deep sleep. I didn’t wake until I heard my brother and Lana laughing in the hallway. It was well after eleven. Jumping up from bed, I panic, knowing I was going to be late for my meeting with Foster. I yank open my door to find Zane with his hands on Lana’s belly as he sucks at her neck.
I roll my eyes. “Get a freaking room.”
“Excellent idea,” Zane says as he leads Lana to their bedroom. It was my cue to get the hell out of here. I envied their love because most of my relationships were failures. Of course, they had a rough patch and ended up separated, but my brother persisted, and Lana became his. Maybe one day, I would be as lucky.
I wish I had more time to prepare, but Foster hated when people were late for meetings even though he often violated his own rule. I quickly dress after toweling off from a shower, leaving my dark tresses to air dry. It took me twenty minutes from the time I woke and pull on a cute yellow sundress and a pair of white strappy heels to leave the apartment. I had exactly seven minutes to get to midtown, and that wasn’t going to happen. Foster would just have to wait.
As I was exiting the cab in front of The Diamond Square Hotel, he was coming out and walking to a dark limo sitting at the curb. Even on the weekends, he is impeccably dressed in a navy suit with an ivory pocket square and matching shirt.
“Mr. Black!” I call out.
He looks up and narrows his eyes as I hurry toward him. “You’re late, and I can’t afford to waste my time. You missed lunch.”
“I’m only twelve minutes late!” I cry.
“But late nonetheless.”
Once again, I was emboldened even though Foster had the upper hand. “You’re one to talk. You’re late all the time.”
He raises his eyebrows, and a smirk came over his lips. “Touché, Miss Butler.”
We stand staring at each other before he takes two strides and grasps my elbow to guide me to his waiting car. He waves his hand at the gray uniformed driver standing by the door, and instead, opens it for me. When he gestures for me to get inside, I hesitate.
“Just to talk,” he assures.
“I’m hungry,” I whine.
“Then you should’ve been on time.”
I sigh before I slip inside, sliding over the black leather bench seat so Foster could join me. As soon as the door is closed, the scent of his cologne invades the small space. He smells so good—good enough to eat. It has been ages since I was last in a limo, so I glance at my surroundings. Everything was black, including the plush carpet below our feet. A frosted glass divider separated us from the driver.
Foster reaches into a hidden panel and grabs a crystal decanter with amber liquid inside, pouring two fingers worth into a matching crystal tumbler.
“It’s a bit early to be drinking.”
“You might want to indulge for our conversation.” Foster takes a sip and holds the glass out to me.
