Page 22 of Falling for the Grumpy Bad Boy

We dropped Conroy off first at his Upper West Side apartment, then swung by Simone’s place in Midtown. She paused before getting out, turning to look at me one last time.

“Whatever you’re thinking about that girl, be careful. She’s not some socialite looking for a good time. She’s Desman’s daughter.”

“I’m not thinking about anyone,” I lied.

“Sure you’re not,” she said. “Just remember, complicated women require complicated solutions. Make sure you’re ready for that kind of investment.”

The driver pulled away before I could formulate a response, leaving me alone with my thoughts for the remainder of the trip to my penthouse.

My building rose from the Manhattan skyline. The upper floors offered views that real estate agents described as “breathtaking” and “once in a lifetime.” The doorman opened the car door with his usual curt nod.

“Evening, Mr. Voss,” the security guard at the front desk said as I crossed the marble lobby. “Hope you had a good night.”

“It was productive,” I replied, which was about as positive as these interactions ever got.

The elevator carried me up sixty-seven floors in smooth, silent efficiency, depositing me in the private hallway that led to my front door. My keycard activated the electronic lock with a soft beep. I stepped into the sanctuary I had created for myself at the top of the world.

Silence greeted me. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city that never slept, though from this height it looked more like a circuit board than a living, breathing metropolis.

I loosened my tie and walked to the bar, pouring myself three fingers of twenty-five-year-old Scotch. Tonight demanded a drink. The liquid burned pleasantly as it went down.

I needed to shake Clementine from my thoughts. I had to stop thinking about that grateful smile she had given me. The way she looked at me like I was some kind of hero.

I drained the glass and left it on the counter. I made my way to my bedroom, done in all black and white. The entire apartment could have been a black-and-white movie. Cool grays were the only color in the place. I kicked off my shoes and stripped out of the suit. I left it in a heap on the floor before climbing completely naked into bed.

The black satin sheets were cool against my skin. Good. I probably should have taken a cold shower but I didn’t have the energy. I closed my eyes and there she was, smiling at me. There were no rules about fucking her in my dreams.