“Does he want you back?”
Nervous excitement fizzed through me. “He does.”
“Do you love him?” she whispered.
Emotion clogged my throat and I nodded. “So much it kind of terrifies me.”
“I guess that’s your answer.” London leaned in closer. “I never loved Nick. He excited me at first and I guess I was caught up in the great sex … but I never loved him, which somehow makes me feel worse that I got into this situation.”
“You never loved him because some part of you knew he wasn’t right for you. That shouldn’t make you feel worse, Spoon.”
“My point is … I think, before I knew what he was really like, I was going to settle for him because I didn’t really believe in love. Not the kind they talk about in books and movies. But this is love.” She gestured to Ramsay, who was much farther ahead than us now on the sidewalk. “The way he looks at you. Him doing all of this. He’s only kind of doing it for me. This is mostly for you. He looks at you like he’d do anything for you.”
I gripped her tighter, forcing back my tears as a wave of confusing emotions flooded me.
Hope, happiness, surreal disbelief that I’d found the one and he felt the same way about me.
Guilt that I might have this while London was going through hell.
Rage at Nick for putting her through hell.
Ramsay suddenly glanced back at us and waited for us to catch up. “Let’s wait around the corner here.” His gaze sharpened on my face. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head.
His expression said he didn’t believe me, but he let it go, though I felt him watching me as we waited for Jay to do her thing.
46.Ramsay
Silver was looking at me in a way that gave me hope. But I couldn’t let my mind wander to that.
We had a job to do.
The receptionist, Andrew, stared open-mouthed as the elevator doors to the penthouse opened.
London, cool as a cucumber considering the circumstances, waved her fingers at him. “I got the key from Nick. Like we thought, just a misunderstanding.”
The receptionist nodded, and we stepped into the elevator.
“You’re good at this.”
London glanced up at me. Her tone was brittle, bitter. “You get used to masking your true feelings when it might get you punched.”
Silver muttered angry curses under her breath.
I ground my teeth together, promising Nick Huston a wee bit of retribution once London was free and clear.
The elevator doors opened to a swanky apartment with an impressive square footage that would make most New Yorkers weep with joy. There was no time for looking around. “Safe?”
London shoved her sunglasses up her face and I saw that beneath her outward calm, she had a deer-in-the-headlights look that spoke of oncoming panic. “This way.”
We followed London left down a hallway off the main open-plan living area and into a large bedroom suite. Behind the wall the bed was set against was a walk-in closet. She shoved aside a row of suits and there was the built-in safe.
“I’ll start packing for you.” Silver caught sight of a duffel bag and pulled it down from a shelf.
London murmured her okay and selected a six-digit code. The safe bleeped red. “Fuck.”
“It’s all right.” I attempted to keep her calm. “Maybe the last digit was wrong.”
