Page 114 of When Stars Collide
He didn’t look sorry. He looked happy—a small man wielding his sliver of personal power over someone he regarded as more privileged than himself. She hated him.
She gave him her most withering look and strode from the lobby. Once she was on the street, she pulled out her phone.
Where are u? Call me.
She waited. Traffic flew by. She waited some more, but he was ghosting her. She hailed a cab and called Piper from the back seat. “I’m looking for Thad. Do you know where he is?”
“I don’t.”
“Have you talked to him?”
“I haven’t.”
“Would you check with your husband?”
“Hold on.” She could hear Piper turning away from the phone. “Coop, have you talked to Thad?”
Olivia heard him in the background. “Yeah, why?”
“Olivia is trying to find him,” his wife said. “Do you know where he is?”
“Nope.”
“Sorry.” Piper was back on the phone. “Maybe Clint knows.”
“Could you give me his address? I’ve lost it.” Olivia had never actually had it.
It turned out Clint lived in Chicago’s western suburbs instead of in the city like any other normal guy in his twenties.
Olivia texted him.
Can I come over?
It’s not the best time.
I’m coming anyway.
The taxi dropped her off at her apartment where she got her car and headed west to the wealthy DuPage County suburb of Burr Ridge.
Clint’s massive French chateau-style home stood ready for the reincarnation of Louis XVI. The house had steeply sloping slate roofs, five tall chimneys, numerous second-story balconies with elaborately curled wrought-iron railings, and—capping it off—a tower. The only thing missing was Marie Antoinette prancing through the topiaries. Clearly Clint had more money than he knew what to do with.
Before she got out of her car, she tried Thad once again.
Stop messing with me and call.
She waited.
A midnight-blue Alfa Romeo whipped around the side of the house and sped down the drive onto the street. She caught a glimpse of not one but two gorgeous young women.
The pervert looked rumpled when he answered the door.
She stomped past him into the marbled entryway. “Really? Two?”
He shoved a hand through his rumpled hair. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
An unwelcome thought intruded. “Is Thad here?”
“You think I’d tell you if he was?”
