Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
I end the call and pace my hotel room, checking my phone every thirty seconds to make sure I haven’t missed a call back.
Eleven minutes later, my phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Savannah?” Charles sounds concerned. Fatherly. “Where are you? I can send my driver for you.”
“I’m so sorry about this. I’m probably overreacting, but I keep seeing him, and then even when I don’t see him, I feel like someone’s watching me.”
“Where are you?” he asks again.
“I’m at the Saks outlet,” I say. It’s just across the street from my hotel.
“My driver’s in a black Explorer. He can be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Thank you, Charles. So much.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m happy to look out for a special young girl like you, Savannah.”
I hang up the call and swing my large tote-style purse over my shoulder before rushing to the elevator.
In fifteen minutes, a black SUV pulls up outside of Saks. Charles climbs out, dressed in a suit and tie like he came straight from his office, and holds the door for me.
“You didn’t have to come,” I say.
“I was concerned.” He motions for me to take a seat in the back then climbs in after me.
Honestly, I was hoping he might not be with me when I went to his apartment, but I’m going to do this for Oliver the hard way or the easy way. “Well, thank you again.”
His gaze dips to my hands. “You’re shaking.”
Indeed I am. I’ve made some questionable choices in my life, but I’ve never outright stolen from someone. What is Oliver’s relationship to Charles? Why does Charles have something of Oliver’s? What will I find in that chest, and what will Charles do if he catches me taking it? I have so many unanswered questions that we pull up to the big building on Park before I’m ready.
“Let’s get you upstairs,” Charles says, a gentle hand between my shoulder blades.
I let him lead me past the doorman and into the building. In the elevator, I stare at my hands clutching my purse in front of me. It feels awkward and unnatural. As if I’m holding a sign that says, I’m going to steal from you.
“Do you want to call the authorities?” Charles asks. “Is he dangerous?”
I shake my head. “They told me there’s nothing they can do until he actually hurts me or breaks a law. And anyway, I know he has to leave the city tonight. He’ll lose his football scholarship if he’s not at their team meeting in the morning.”
Charles sighs, mutters something about “young men these days,” then guides me into his apartment.
The place is massive, made bright and airy with tall ceilings and big windows. I cringe to imagine what an apartment this size costs in Manhattan—and this isn’t even his primary residence.
“Unfortunately, my housekeeper is gone until morning,” Charles says. “But I can order in some food if you’re hungry?”
I shake my head. “I’m too worked up to eat.”
He waves toward the giant sofa in the living area. “Please, have a seat. It’s rather serendipitous that you called. I had planned to reach out to you through your academic advisor. I wanted to talk to you about something.”
My stomach feels like it’s turning inside out as I lower myself onto the soft cushions. What have I gotten myself into? “What’s that?”
He takes a seat on the opposite end of the sofa and scans me. It’s not sexual but assessing. “I know this might seem an odd thing to say, given how those your age seem to meet your romantic partners these days—on the apps and everything—but I have a son I would like to see with a good match, and from the first moment I saw you, I felt something.”
I raise my brows. “Something like what?”
“Call it intuition—call it a sixth sense. I saw you and immediately thought you could be my daughter someday.”
I cock my head to the side, studying him. “And how does your son feel about you selecting his future wife?”
He chuckles. “Trust me, he would not take kindly to it. And yet I can’t help myself.” He sighs. “I haven’t been a very good father, Savannah. I’ve been more absent than present—letting my business take me away from my children when I should’ve used the flexibility I gained from my successes to make time for them. And my son . . .” He presses his hand to his chest. “I’ve made so many mistakes with him. I know it’s too late to be the father he needed, but I hope I can play a part in giving him the family he deserves.”
My heart squeezes. Whatever horrible thing he’s done in the past, this man is sincere now. “That’s really sweet.” And now I have to steal from him. “How can you be so sure he’d be interested in me?”