Aster froze, forced herself not to react, at least not outwardly. Though there was nothing she could do about the wild trembling inside her belly.
“Who poured the champagne?” Her voice shook as she fought to recall.
Ryan looked right at her. “Ira.”
Aster slammed the brakes hard, causing the car to skid to a stop and just narrowly miss the SUV right before her. She gripped the wheel tightly and struggled to catch her breath, unsure if her pounding heart was because of what Ryan had said, the near miss, or the view just beyond the windshield.
“That’s it!” she whispered.
“You seriously think Ira had something to do with it?” Ryan made a surprised face. “I mean, why would he go after Madison—and why would he frame you for it? What could he possibly gain from something like that?”
Aster could think of a few things Ira could gain—namely the kind of PR for his clubs that money could never buy. Still, she shook her head in dismissal. She couldn’t even think about that. She was too busy counting the seconds until the light turned green once again.
“Aster? You okay?”
Ryan shifted in his seat and leaned toward her, as Aster pushed through the intersection. Once she’d cleared it, she jammed the wheel to the right and parked alongside the curb. “This is it.” She nudged her chin toward the high-rise looming tall and wide before her. “This is the building.”
Without a word, Ryan popped his door open.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m investigating.”
“You don’t even know what to look for.”
“And you do?”
“I remember everything from that morning.”
The look he gave her was doubtful.
“Okay, maybe I didn’t remember the address, but everything else is clear as a photograph. Besides, you’re too recognizable.”
“And you’re not?”
She reached into the backseat and retrieved a slouchy black beanie for him and a large floppy brimmed hat for herself. Paired with the dark sunnies she was already wearing, she reasoned she could be mistaken for just about anybody.
“You really think it’s this easy?” He assessed his reflection in the lighted visor mirror.
“Look, it’s now or never,” she said in frustration. Ryan’s skepticism only served to magnify her own, and she couldn’t afford to take on his doubt. She needed to move before she lost all her nerve. “For the moment, no one even knows that I’m out, which means this may be my one and only chance to move about without the paps on my trail. Ira can only hold back TMZ for so long, you know. Besides, once Trena’s interview airs, it’ll be a whole other story. And it’s not like you can stop me.”
Ryan shook his head, slipped out of the car, and walked alongside her toward the building’s entrance. “Pretty sure this is it,” she said.
“How sure?”
“Eighty to ninety percent sure.”
“What will it take to get a hundred?”
“The artwork in the lobby. It’s big, bold, colorful, and definitely memorable.”
Ryan frowned. “All these buildings have modern art in their foyers. . . .”
“Trust me, I’ll know it when I see it,” she said, cutting him off. “Now try to be quiet and pretend you don’t know me.” She pushed through the revolving glass door, crossed the gleaming stone floor, and approached the guy behind the concierge desk tucked away in the corner. He definitely hadn’t been there the morning she’d fled. Then again, she’d left just after sunrise, so it was probably hours before his shift began. “I was wondering if there were any available units I could see?” She stole a quick glance at Ryan, who was somewhere behind her, discreetly taking pics with his cell phone.
She held her breath as the guy looked her over. His gaze shifted from her hat, to her sunglasses, to her expensive designer bag, before he finally got around to replying. “You can check with the leasing office if you want, or I can save you the trip and tell you there’re no vacancies.”
He returned to his phone as though expecting her to leave, but Aster remained firmly in place. “Nothing at all—not even short term?”