"I mean, Darren is super nice. He always says hi. And his attention to great customer service is probably why he has so many clients...."
I trailed off under the weight of Cole's hard, cynical stare.
"You'll move in with me until my assistant can set you up in a decent apartment."
A decent apartment? My heart nearly gave out at the thought of it. Some place nice and clean and free of friendly meth dealers. That sounded so nice!
But my pride wouldn't let me give in to moving in with a man I was only supposed to be pretending to love.
"Why the hesitation?" Cole asked, glancing over his shoulder. "Afraid your roommate will miss you?"
"I don't have a?—"
But then I followed his gaze to find the rat sitting on my couch, watchingMello Medicineand nibbling on a cube of the protein bar I'd used to bait the traps.
Son of a…
"Fine..." The last shred of my thinning pride gave out with a tired sigh."But I need to pay my landlord the rent before we go. And I don't need a moving truck," I muttered. "Everything I have fits easily into a couple of trash bags. Maybe one."
I'd been getting rid of a bunch of things. First, because I wanted to go to New York City. Then, because I'd sold everything I had of value to replenish the depleted charity fund Nora set up in my grandma's name.
Cole stared at me for several beats, his icy gaze sharp and assessing.
But then, he just said, "All right, I'll have Agnes call off the moving truck. Pack up, and I'll drive you back to my place."
"You don't have to drive me?—"
He raised his hand to cut me off right there. "If your car is anything like your apartment, I think I do."
"The bus gets the job done," I insisted, feeling the need to defend Las Vegas's transit system, which had served me well over the time I'd been living there. Okay, well-ish. Neon lights, shows, casinos, sin, sin, and more sin—that was what Vegas was known for. A robust and dependable public transportation system that could get you anywhere other than the Strip in a timely manner? Not so much.
Cole, who probably hadn't ridden a single bus in his entire Benton life, brought his phone back out and started texting. "I'll tell Agnes to pull out one of the cars from my garage. You can probably handle the Mercedes."
Aw, geez, how many favors will I end up owing this man?"Really, you don't have to?—”
Cole arched an eyebrow at me over his phone. "So your plan is to keep me waiting instead of packing your bags quickly?"
I pursed my lips…. Then hung my head and quietly shuffled into the kitchen to grab a couple of trash bags.
CHAPTER8
Sunny
To Cole's credit,he didn't rub it in, but when he turned his sleek Jaguar off Las Vegas Boulevard, I realized I could've taken the bus straight there.
"Wait, you live in the Benton Grand Las Vegas?"
"I have residences all over the world," he answered, pulling up to a private garage entrance I'd never seen before. It had a black iron gate that lifted with a metal groan as soon as the Jaguar got near it. "Including a penthouse at the Benton."
I looked to both sides and had to ask, "If you live in a hotel, couldn't you just put me in an empty room instead of arranging an apartment?" An expensive one, if Cole's luxury sedan—which he was parking in a row of various cars that cost more than I made in an entire year as a Benton Girl—was any indication.
Cole gritted his jaw as he pushed the off button on his car. "This is better."
I opened my mouth to ask more questions, but then I closed it again when I realized how ungrateful I would sound if I insisted he put me and my trash bag—I had been pitifully right about maybe needing only one—in a hotel room.
So, I kept my mouth clamped shut and my hand wrapped tight around my trash bag as we took a small private elevator up, up, and up some more, higher than I'd ever been in the Benton Grand. Until we finally arrived on a floor with a single hallway that led to a single door with a keypad on it.
Cole punched in a code, then...
