Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 131459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
That was it.
When he finished listening, he deleted it and blocked the new number.
But he was unsettled.
There was no reason for her to call him. And there was no reason for her to be as angry as she sounded.
He’d give her a pass after she first saw him with a new woman.
Now?
No.
When he came back into the limo, Cadence was talking, and both Mika and Hale were regarding him.
It seemed he failed at appearing calm.
He gave them both a slight shake of his head to indicate he was all right, even though he wasn’t.
Hale didn’t need to know anything about this.
Tom would share with Mika later.
Neither Hale nor Mika made a thing of it, and not too long later, they pulled up outside Mika’s brownstone.
Tom glanced out the window.
It was on a tree-lined street in Chelsea. Four story walk-up. Narrow. Wrought iron fencing around the front. Five steps up to the front door. The façade was red-and-brownstone.
Mika was asking Hale if he wanted to come in and have a drink or join them for dinner as Cadence clambered out and the chauffeur exited the vehicle to get their luggage.
“I have a dinner meeting tonight,” Hale replied. “But if the invitation extends while you’re in town, I’d love to come another night.”
“Tomorrow?” Mika asked.
“Perfect,” Hale said.
Hale got out with them, touched Cadence’s arm, kissed Mika’s cheek and gave a one-armed hug and slap on the back to Tom, which he returned.
“Swing by at ten-thirty to take you to Jamie’s office?” he asked when he caught Tom’s eyes.
Tom nodded. “Perfect, son. Thanks.”
With a wave, Hale got back into his limo.
Mika took Tom’s hand.
Cadence was already climbing the steps.
The front door was open, their bags nowhere to be seen, so they’d probably been set inside.
And a man of average height but rather fit build with a massive swoop of thick blond hair rising from his forehead stood there.
He was wearing a pair of perfectly tailored black trousers and a slender wine-colored cashmere sweater. At his throat, the collar of a pale pink button-up could be seen. It had long ends that were tied over-and-under, like a short scarf.
The man’s large, tortoiseshell-framed glasses were such size and shape, they were immediately iconic. And his very thick russet beard was so perfectly clipped, Tom knew he had a barber do it for him.
Tom guessed this was Teddy.
Cadence was now facing him, and they did the double-cheek kiss while he murmured, “Darling.”
Teddy didn’t budge an inch as Cadence slid past him to get inside.
Mika and Tom approached, and Tom withstood a top to toe to top, back to toe to eyes before Teddy dismissed him entirely, looked to Mika and coolly offered a cheek, repeating his murmur of “Darling.”
She kissed his cheek, went after the other one, then she stepped to the side at the top of the stoop as Teddy continued to bar the door.
“Teddy, this is Tom Pierce. Tom, this is my dearest, darling Teddy,” she introduced, as if she wasn’t standing on her own stoop and this introduction wasn’t better done when they were at the very least inside the door.
This annoyed Tom.
However, that, he managed not to let show, and Tom offered a hand. “Teddy.”
Teddy stared at it a moment as if he was going to decline a handshake or maybe offer him some antibacterial gel before he deigned to touch Tom, then he shook as a supercilious curl took hold on his upper lip.
At once, after he released Tom’s hand, he melted into the shadows of Mika’s house without another word.
“I told you he’s protective,” Mika reminded him as Tom remained where he was so she could precede him.
Protective was not the word he’d use.
“Mm,” was Tom’s reply.
She ducked her head but failed to hide her smile as she stepped inside.
Tom moved in behind her, taking the last step up into a vestibule with a spectacular mosaic tiled floor. Then through a second set of doors into a short, narrow hallway with a beautifully laid parquet floor.
He followed Mika as she moved into a room to the right.
And he entered Wonderland.
At what he saw, and the amount of it, he was struck mute and motionless.
All he could do was stare.
Walls of shelves filled with books. Curios. Pictures. Sculpture. A puffy, cream damask couch at the back of the room. A robin’s-egg-blue amoeba chair at the front window. A beat-up leather wingchair and ottoman. A straight-backed tapestry armchair with carved-wood arms. More couches. More chairs. Tables filled with framed photos. Pedestals topped with massive bouquets of what looked like fresh flowers.
Tom wandered in further.
The space was dark. Overfilled.
There was lots of wood.
The rugs on the floors were thick, crafted of rich colors.
The famous photograph Mika took of Stella Gunn that featured on the cover of her photojournalistic book Women and Guitars was above the fireplace in the front half of the room.