Page 58 of Sweet Temptation

"That’s impossible.” I echoed Noah’s words. “You should have seen the way he spoke about my family last night, especially my father. There’s no burying the hatchet between them.” I was more confident of that than ever before after speaking to Noah last night and seeing the pain in his eyes when he’d recounted what had happened with my aunt and his dad. Though I didn’t repeat that to Wes. “Plus, his grandfather would probably disown him for being within a few hundred feet of this building let alone setting up a meeting to let bygones be bygones. Noah would never go against him.”

Wes shrugged. “It could also be a coincidence,” he suggested. “There are a few restaurants and some other offices in this building. I guess you’ll have to ask Noah or your dad if you want to find out.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

I jumped as my phone started ringing, and I pulled it from my back pocket. I hadn’t realized quite how on edge I was, but my heart rate kicked up another notch when I saw my dad’s number lighting up the screen. I flipped the phone around to show Wes.

“This just keeps getting weirder,” I said.

“Are you going to answer?”

I nodded and lifted the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Hello, Isobel,” my father said pleasantly, his deep, English accent making my name sound far posher than it was.

“Hi, Matthew. What’s up?” I glanced up at the building as I spoke, wondering if he somehow knew I was out front. Or if perhaps his call had something to do with Noah?

“I know you’re in town this week, and I’ve managed to shuffle my schedule around. I was hoping we could have dinner tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes.”

I was outside his building right now, but I supposed I could wait until this evening to talk to him. If I went storming into his office, he might not be as receptive to answering my questions. I might be better off letting him do this on his terms.

“Sure, that would be great.”

“Perfect. Text me the address for where you’re staying, and I’ll have a car pick you up and bring you to my apartment tonight.”

“Okay.”

“I’m just between meetings, so I must rush off, but I look forward to seeing you tonight.”

“I’ll see you then,” I said.

He hung up the phone, and I blew out a breath. “Looks like operation break into my father’s office and accost him is off. He wants to have dinner with me tonight.”

“That’s great.” Wes smiled. “And I don’t think it’s considered breaking in if you’re his daughter. I’m sure he would have loved to see you.”

“Maybe.” That was still something I didn’t feel all that confident of though. I hadn’t had a proper conversation with him since the ball, and I was quite sure our next discussion wasn’t going to be particularly pleasant. Matthew certainly seemed reluctant to talk about his history with the Hastings, and after hearing Noah’s side of things I could see why.

I was still in a state of shock over everything Noah had revealed. He had painted Matthew as the bad guy, but I still wasn’t sure what to believe. I dreaded to think what further twists Matthew might have to add to the tale.

Either way, this dinner was no longer simply about the rift with the Hastings, it was also about what kind of person my father was. I wanted the truth, but how was I going to feel once I finally had it? And what if Noah was right? What if Matthew was the villain in all of this?

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

We started making our way back to the museum but not before Wes dragged me to his favorite hot dog stand which was just down the street. He told me it was the best in the city, but I was still feeling too fragile so I watched as he devoured his food.

Once he was done, we jumped in a cab and hurried back to The Met. Our little excursion hadn’t taken as long as I’d expected, so we got back in good time. We easily snuck back through the front entrance while Mr. Wagner was talking to another unlucky staff member and returned to wandering the galleries.

While our mission to my father’s office hadn’t quite turned out as planned, I knew I’d have a chance to get the information I wanted at dinner tonight. I’d also got to spend time hanging out with Wes, which was never a bad thing. Though I was still at a loss as to why Noah was at my father’s building.

When it was time to leave the museum, we took the short walk back through Central Park to the hotel. Cress and Anna chatted the whole way about the Alexander McQueen exhibit, while I smiled and nodded as enthusiastically as I could.

I didn’t see Noah again until we got back to the hotel. It was late in the afternoon, and all the students and teachers were mingling in the lobby, collecting their luggage and preparing to get back on the bus to Weybridge. I hadn’t seen Noah at The Met or on the walk back, so he must have skipped the visit completely.

Maybe Wes was right, and Noah had told the teachers he was too sick to go to the museum. Instead of resting in his room though, he was visiting my father’s office. I was dying to pull him aside and ask him what he’d been doing there, but there were too many people around, and I wasn’t sure how to ask him without it sounding like we’d been following him. It would be especially embarrassing if I questioned him and he had a simpler reason for why he was there, as Wes suggested. So, I left it, hoping I could come up with an appropriate way to ask him about it at another time.

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