Page 95 of Inarticulate

“806,” the receptionist rattled off without looking at her screen.

“That’s Savannah’s room?”

“Oh, no.” The woman snickered and tippy tapped on her keyboard. “You didn’t specify. And besides, I can’t give you that information. It’s not only a breach—”

“Yes, yes, a breach of company policy.”

“—it’s also a safety issue…” She lowered her voice. “However, if I go to the bathroom and someone looks at the search I’ve pulled up on my screen, it’s beyond my control.” The woman stepped back from her computer and unclipped a security pass from her pants pocket. “I’m just going to leave this here.” She slid the plastic card next to her keyboard as she eyed the other receptionist on the far end of the desk.

Penelope didn’t spare a second waiting for the woman to leave. She snatched the security card, handed it over her shoulder to him, then turned the computer monitor around.

“There’s two rooms under his name.” She spared him a quick glance. “509 and the penthouse.”

He held up a hand. “Five.” He was pinning his hopes on Spencer booking the penthouse for himself and a standard room for Savannah.

Pinning and praying.

“Lead the way.”

He strode through the chaos of the lobby, maneuvering around employees taking furniture into the building and others who were taking it out. The elevator ride was hell. Thirty seconds of contemplative agony, where he questioned his motives.

Then his knuckles were on door 509 and he began to knock with hard strokes.

“Do you want me to say anything specific?” Penelope asked.

He shook his head and stared at the door, wordlessly begging it to open. A ragged breath tore from his lungs, then another, and another until the lock released and he was staring at the woman who owned him.

She stood in the doorway, dressed in a long navy skirt and buttoned up cream blouse that clung tight to her breasts. She was the epitome of his future, his happiness rolled up into one sensational package of sexy legs, gorgeous hazel eyes, and the unmistakable jut of her dignified chin.

The mere sight of her made him feel worthless and determined to succeed at the same time. Hopeless and hopeful.

“Mr. Black?” Her expression was schooled, not an ounce of shock showing through her composed features. “Can I help you?”

He squared his shoulders and tried to relax. Tried and failed spectacularly. “We n-n-need—”Fuck.He hated that sound. Despised it. There wasn’t an inch of his skin that wasn’t crawling from revulsion, but he’d withstand it. He’d do anything. For her. “T-to talk.”

She blinked at him, one hand clutching the door, the other pressed against the frame. “Is this about settlement? Because Spencer would be the best person to speak to. I’m only here to ensure all Rydel property is taken from the building and to say goodbye to friends.”

Her voice had wavered the slightest bit. She wasn’t unaffected by him, and the knowledge encouraged confidence.

“No,” he mouthed.

“Everything under control, Savannah?” The male voice carried from her room, practically neutering him.

She kept her gaze trained on his as a large, familiar frame came up behind her.

Spencer.

Fucker.

The guy placed a hand on her shoulder, a protective hand Keenan would’ve wanted to break on a good day, but when it caused Savannah to stiffen, he itched to fracture every bone in the man’s body.

“I’m fine.” She stepped to the side, letting the asshole through. “Can you give me a minute?”

“Sure.” Spencer jerked his chin in greeting. “Good to see you both again.” His tone implied otherwise.

“You, too,” Penelope added after seconds of awkward silence.

Keenan sensed the guy’s departure but didn’t take his focus from Savannah who stood tall before him, waiting for answers.

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