Page 14 of The Green Card Baby Deal

CHAPTER 8

CLARA

Clara spent much of the taxi ride to Luis’s apartment finding new ways to tease him about not having a house. When the driver dropped her off at a downtown high rise, she forgot every single one of them. The building was beautiful, and she caught her breath when the doorman finally let her in. The floors were marble and echoed the sound of her footsteps. Above her was probably the highest ceiling she’d ever seen with brass details all around it. The place felt like a palace.

“Okay maybe it’s a nice building,” she muttered, “but it’s still an apartment.” She perched on a chaise longue in the lobby and added, “In San Francisco,” conceding to an argument no one other than her had even bothered to make.

Soon enough, she spotted Luis striding toward her as though he owned the whole building rather than one little apartment. Maybe he was proud. Nothing wrong with that, she thought. After all, this was only a marriage of convenience. It wasn’t like she was going to have a real relationship with him, and who cared if your business partner was a little over proud of his San Francisco apartment? If he was covering her fertility treatments, he could have boasted about living in a shed out back, and she would have just shrugged it off.

“Ready to see your new home?” he said when he reached her. He held out his hand to help her stand, and once again Clara was treated to just how handsome the man really was. It was as though she’d forgotten after only a few hours, and now that she was in his presence again, feeling the easy atmosphere around him, and noting the warm brown of his eyes, she realized just how much she wanted to kiss him again.

She tried to shake off her attraction and act a bit more aloof. “I haven’t agreed to move in yet,” she said.

“Oh, I think you will, though. I’m willing to bet on it.”

“How much?”

Luis laughed and led her past a row of elevators to one around the corner just beyond them. The door to it was gold instead of silver, and there were little flourishes in the corners, too. Luis used an electronic key on the controls and they opened immediately. He invited her in with a gesture. “My Lady. Your chariot awaits.”

“What, is this a private elevator?” Clara laughed as she entered, but only part of her bought the joke. She couldn’t fathom another reason why he would walk past the others to this one. Maybe he just liked the decorations better? He was showing his apartment off, after all. Of course he was going to bring her attention to all the best parts. But then there was the key, and the fact that they just kept going up without stopping on any of the floors. She’d be an idiot not to accept the fact that they were well on their way to?—

“The penthouse.” Luis answered her question without even realizing it. “Not just an apartment.” He grinned at her as the elevator doors opened, and she stepped out into a world of absolute luxury.

The first thing she noticed — because it was impossible not to — was the fact that every exterior wall was made up of floor-to-ceiling windows. In the center of the living room space, surrounded by the most comfortable-looking furniture she’d ever seen, was a floating fireplace. The chandeliers were modern but gorgeous and so classy. The place felt huge, probably because it was huge. She pictured herself curling up on the couch with a warm blanket and a cup of hot coffee on a cold winter morning, watching the fire dance in the fireplace. It was so high above the city, so quiet, and so peaceful. And so clean. How did he keep it so clean? She was used to the chaos of her own apartment. Being rich probably made it easier to stay organize somehow. Then she had a thought that made her eyes pop. Maybe he had a maid. Oh, who was she kidding? He definitely had a maid.

“Do you like it?” Luis said from behind her.

“Like it?” She turned to face him. “When can I move in?”

His face lit up. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s a hell yes! I’d marry the apartment itself if you gave me the opportunity.”

Luis frowned for a moment, but his mood picked back up quickly. “Let me show you upstairs.”

“There’s an upstairs?” How hadn’t she noticed the beautiful wood-and-glass staircase ascending along one wall of windows.

“Where did you think I slept?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a bed just descends from the ceiling and floats in front of the fireplace.” She ran to the stairs and started up.

“Tell me again why you aren’t in interior design,” Luis said, following behind her.

“No idea. Maybe you can put a good word in for me with the other penthouse owners.”

“Never.” Just as Clara reached the top of the stairs, Luis wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back into him. She could feel his breath on her neck as he whispered. “I’m keeping you all to myself.”

At the top of the stairs was the master suite. There wasn’t even a separate room for it, just the bedroom right there, facing the wall of windows. Clara guessed that, when you’re this high up, you probably aren’t too worried about privacy. What surprised her most about the bedroom was how colorful it was. The rest of the penthouse had modern, white and beige, clean décor. It’s the look Clara had noted in every image of a penthouse she’d ever seen in magazines or movies. But the bedroom was dark wood, oranges and yellows. There was color everywhere, warm and vibrant color. It looked nothing like the rest of the place.

“Why is it so different up here?” she asked.

He answered, “Just a little taste of home.” His voice was low and melancholy.

“When was the last time you went home?”

“Too long,” he murmured, still holding her in his arms.

“And where is home exactly?”

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