Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Then I heard Jake’s response, and my world was pulled out from under my feet.
“Mafia. He’s not in the mafia, Addison. He is the mafia.”
Jake went off to find Sia.
His plan was to let her know he was riding home with me, then coming right back for her. It was ridiculous that he was insisting on taking me home, but he was.
Once Jake pushed through the crowd, I went to flag a cab. Then I texted him. I’m already in a taxi. Stay with Sia. Have fun. We can talk later. I lifted my arm for a cab, and one pulled forward. A valet from the hotel opened the back door, but someone called my name from behind me.
“Mrs. Sailer?”
A black SUV was parked in front of the building with a man standing beside its open door.
“I’m supposed to give you a ride home, ma’am,” he added.
“A ride home?” Why was he using my married name? How did he even know that name? Who was this guy? This was a private service. The man was big and muscular—and I recognized him. “I saw you at Gianni’s one night.”
“I don’t remember, but you saw me at The Mauricio, too.”
Cole. The back elevator. He’d been holding up his friend. “You were hurt.” This was the guy who’d been bleeding.
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Mr. Dorian patched me up.”
“You’re one of Cole’s men.” Because he had men. They weren’t his friends. They weren’t his co-workers, although maybe they were. My stomach began twisting and churning. “Cole told you to wait for me?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m to give you a ride wherever you want—” He stopped himself. His hands came around and joined in front of him. “Can I give you a ride home?”
I took a step closer, folding my arms over my chest. The night wind had picked up. I hadn’t chosen the right coat. I went with stylish and lightweight—the one that looked nice over a formal dress. I shivered now, wishing I’d gone for something heavier.
“What else?” I demanded. “Why did you just use my married name?”
“Ma’am?” His eyes widened, and his mouth formed a small o, like he’d been caught at something. It was there, then gone in the next instant. “What do you mean, ma’am?”
“I’m Addison Bowman. Not Sailer. Who told you my last name was Sailer?”
“It was a mistake. My apologies, Ms. Bowman.” Then his mouth closed, and I knew he wasn’t going to say anything more.
“I won’t get in there until you tell me.”
He frowned. “I’m supposed to keep you safe. That’s all I was going to say.”
This was Cole’s man, here on Cole’s order, and where was Cole? Back in that party, standing next to another man just as deadly. Jake’s voice sounded in my head again, “Addison, he is the mafia.”
The mob. Cole. I couldn’t digest that, not yet anyway, but it made so much sense. I thought? Does it make sense? I shook my head. One thing at a time, and right now, I let loose the fury that’d been waiting on the bottom of my stomach. This guy wasn’t being honest, and I was officially fed up with it.
I glared at him, letting all the anger I’d reserved for Cole blast him. I shook my head. “No way.”
He looked unsure. “Ma’am? Addison?”
I gave him a fake smile, sweetening my tone. “I’m sorry. I misspoke. I meant no fucking way. I’ll find my own ride home. Thank you.”
I hurried into the open cab and gave my address to the driver.
We pulled out, but a second later the driver told me, “We’re being followed, Miss. That car is right behind us.”
My head fell back against the seat. Of course he was.
“Should I call the police?”
What would happen if he did? If the police came and questioned Cole’s man, what then? He was following because his boss told him to give me a ride. They’d laugh at me. There was no danger—or maybe they’d recognize him? Maybe they’d search his name and find he had a record. The cops would find out he was mob, and what then? He’d get arrested, just for doing his job? Would Cole come bail him out? Or would he send someone else?
I wasn’t aware I was laughing until the driver asked, “Miss? Are you okay?”
I cringed. There was a faint note of hysteria there. I let it go and gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m fine. Sorry. Just tired is all.”
He didn’t look away from the rearview mirror right away. But he had to watch where he was driving. I quieted and tried to relax the rest of the way. The Haldorf wasn’t too far from The Mauricio, but tonight, it felt like an hour’s drive. When he pulled up in front, the SUV stopped behind us.
I stayed on the sidewalk as the cab drove away.