The Casanova (The Miles High Club 3) - Page 71

“Welcome to your new home.” She hands the keys over; a red bow is tied onto the keyring. “When do your things arrive?” she asks.

A vehicle sounds in the distance and we all turn to see the moving truck slowly coming up the driveway. “That’ll be them.”

“There is an envelope in the top drawer in the kitchen with all the instructions for everything.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll leave you to it then. Congratulations, I’m sure you’re going to be very happy here.”

I shake her hand. “Thank you.”

“And remember, if there is anything I can do. Anything,” she accentuates. “You have my number.”

I fake a smile. “I do, thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”

She smiles as if waiting for me to say something more.

I look over to Christopher and he raises his eyebrows. I have zero attraction to this woman.

Awkward.

“Okay, bye.” I march up to the front door and with a sad wave she gets into her car.

I put a key into the lock, it doesn’t turn.

“Did you fuck her?” Christopher asks as he watches her car drive away.

“No.” I wince as I struggle with another key. “As if.”

“She’s very—”

“Weird.” I cut him off as I try another key.

“Yeah, anyway. Open the door.”

“What do you think I’m trying to do here?” I jiggle the lock.

The truck pulls up and four movers all get out. “Hey there.”

“Hello,” I call. “Won’t be a moment.” I struggle with yet another key. “Fuck it,” I whisper. “Why didn’t she tell me what damn key it was?”

“Maybe you’re supposed to just walk right through the door?”

I inhale deeply. “Christopher, so help me fucking God.” The key finally turns and the door pushes open with a deep, long creak.

Christopher and I peer in and then look at each other, and then go back to peering in.

It’s gigantic, and grand, with incredibly high ceilings and fancy cornicing. Dated and otherworldly.

It’s like a step back in time.

Utterly beautiful.

“Wow,” Christopher whispers in awe.

I smile broadly as I imagine how cool I can make this place.

“I know how it got its name,” he whispers again.

“Me too. I’m enchanted already.”

KATE

I lie on the couch while eating Nutella out of the jar with a spoon.

“You know that shit gives you a fat ass, right?” Daniel says as he puts his laundry away.

“Nobody is going to see my ass anyway.” I sigh.

“Oh, except Elliot Miles. What’s happening there anyway, you haven’t mentioned him all week. Is that what’s wrong with you?”

“This has nothing to do with Elliot Miles,” I lie.

Maybe a little.

“What then?”

“The fact that my sister is a bitch. I just want a sweet sister who cares, you know? Sisters are supposed to be built-in best friends.”

He smiles and sits at my feet, picks them up and puts them on his lap. “That’s it, I’m dragging your ass out tonight.”

“I’m not going out.” I sigh.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.”

I raise my eyebrow. “You always say that.”

“And it always is.”

“Where are you going?”

“An art auction.”

“What?” I sit up. “Where at?”

“Here in London. Do you want to come?” He smiles sweetly.

“Actually.” I bite my lip as an idea rolls around in my head. “Maybe I do.” I stand with purpose. “But first you need to make me look insanely hot.”

Daniel chuckles. “Mission accepted.”

It’s nine when we walk into the Halifax function room, a ballroom at the Conservatory of Music. The venue for the art auction.

I’m wearing a deep-blue fitted dress with long sleeves and a low back, sky-high stilettos, and my hair is down and full. I’m totally dressed up in designer samples and I look good.

At least I hope I do.

To the left of the room is a bar and everyone is mingling; canapés and champagne are being walked around on silver trays. To the right of the room an auction is going on, and you can hear the auctioneer calling. The crowd is eclectic and the sound of jovial chatter is loud as it echoes around the high ceiling.

I look around: Where is he? Is this even the right auction?

“Let’s go and look at the auction,” I whisper.

Daniel puts his arm around me and we walk over to that part of the room. There is a huge painting on an easel and about fifteen people are gathered around it.

“One point one,” I hear the familiar voice snap. Elliot is standing front and center, bidding.

I pull Daniel back so we can watch unhindered.

“I hope his dick is as big as his wallet?” Daniel whispers.

It is.

I giggle.

“Be nice,” I whisper back.

I watch as Elliot bids on the painting, completely focused on his task. He’s wearing black jeans and a black knitted sweater; his dark hair is messed to perfection. His words come back to me.

I was too attached.

I smile to myself as the bidding war continues. We stand at the back and watch the proceedings; I don’t know whether I’m appalled or impressed at his drive to own the painting. It’s obvious for all to see that he won’t back down, that painting is as good as his.

Tags: T.L. Swan The Miles High Club Romance
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