Page 38 of The VIP Doubles Down
“Sure.” That wasn’t going to happen.
Jane had hired her to work with Gavin for only five days, and Gavin had not rehired her for next week. So, technically speaking, their patient-therapist relationship was over. But it left her in a kind of ethical limbo, because she hoped Gavin would ask her to continue treatment. He certainly needed more. “How’s your neck feeling?”
“On a pain scale of one to ten”—she could hear the smile in his voice—“about a three, which is damned impressive for five days of therapy. But let’s not talk about work tonight.”
“So no Julian?”
He shook his head. “Tell me about your hometown of Sanctuary. The name alone is intriguing.”
Allie had often used cozy stories about her hometown to help clients relax with her. But, of course, Gavin didn’t allow her to skim the surface. He asked questions about what kinds of jobs people did there, how lively the cultural scene was, the ways people socialized. He rolled the names of people she knew around on his tongue. Even though he was blocked, she could tell his writer’s brain was at work, gathering material.
Not that she minded. She liked talking about her roots. Until Troy had forced her to leave, she’d been happy there. She wished she could still find contentment at home.
“And here we are,” Gavin said, spinning the wheel to turn into a driveway guarded by a bulky man in a dark uniform. The guard scanned Gavin’s driver’s license with a handheld gizmo before a massive metal gate swung inward to reveal a valet station. Two young men leaped forward to open their car doors. “Put it in Nathan Trainor’s garage,” he said, handing his key to the valet. He took Allie’s elbow and led her toward a bronze door tucked into a corner. Another valet swiped a card to unlock the elevator, and the gleaming door slid open.
“Wow!” Allie breathed, taking in the polished wood paneling set in frames of bronze that matched the door. “It’s like a fortress.”
“The downside of wealth,” Gavin said, setting the elevator in motion. “There are security cameras everywhere and a battalion of bodyguards in the building.”
“Do you have bodyguards, too?” She hadn’t noticed any at his house, although she had spotted the outside security cameras.
“Sometimes. People are less inclined to kidnap writers.” His smile was grim. “Even bad guys feel sorry for us.” He stepped away from her to skim his gaze down her body. “Now that I can see you, may I say that your attire is perfect for a dinner with billionaires? In fact, you look so lovely that I’m tempted to keep you all to myself.”
“Say it as often as you want,” Allie said, but her pulse throbbed at the seductive caress of his voice.
Fortunately, the elevator door slid open, offering a much-needed distraction. As she looked around, Allie nearly gasped out loud. They were in an entrance hall that rivaled any mansion’s. The floor was an ornate marble mosaic while a curving staircase soared upward past a magnificent chandelier. A man in a navy blue suit with hair graying at the temples stepped forward.
“Evening, Ed,” Gavin said, shaking hands with the other man. “Allie, this is Ed Roccuzzo, Nathan’s majordomo and a former drill sergeant.”
“Ms.Nichols,” Ed said, taking her proffered hand. “A pleasure.”
Allie wasn’t sure what a majordomo did, but she knew to respect a drill sergeant. “Please call me Allie.”
He nodded and turned. “Follow me, if you would.”
They walked down a hallway past huge rooms furnished with perfectly chosen furniture and artwork. Allie couldn’t believe she was inside a skyscraper. Ed stopped in front of a door and gestured them through. Six people were seated around a massive glass coffee table in front of a roaring fire. Beyond them a wall of windows displayed the sparkling lights of nighttime Manhattan.
“Allie, Gavin!” Chloe jumped up from the comfortable-looking modular couch, her brown hair catching gleams of firelight, and gave them each a quick hug. “Come and sit. What would you like to drink?”
Allie wanted water, but there wasn’t a single water glass on the coffee table. “White wine, please?”
“Chardonnay, pinot grigio, or sauvignon blanc?” Ed’s voice came from just behind her.
She pivoted and gave him an overwhelmed smile. “Whatever’s open.”
He winked at her, and she felt better.
Chloe drew them over to the table, where introductions were made. The other guests were the Archers, Ben Cavill, and Priscilla Duval, who had once worked at Trainor Electronics. Priscilla was tall, slender, and so elegant that Allie felt like a frump once again. As Chloe settled them all, Allie found herself beside the doctor, which suited her just fine. Medical matters were well within her wheelhouse, and she could watch Gavin out of the corner of her eye.
“Our guests of honor are stuck in traffic,” Nathan said, “so we’ll wait a little longer for dinner.”
Allie checked out the clothes. The ladies wore pants and blouses just like she did, and the gentlemen were casual in trousers and open-necked shirts. Everyone else might be wearing couture, but at least her ensemble didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Her anxiety trickled away, leaving her relaxed enough to enjoy herself.
The conversation ranged over topics even Allie could contribute to occasionally, although mostly she watched. Chloe was a warm, attentive hostess. However, every now and then, her gaze would go to the gray-eyed, intense Nathan, and the two would exchange a look filled with love. Then there was the blond football legend, Luke Archer, who kept his beautiful, dark-haired wife tucked firmly against his side in a way that tugged at Allie’s heart. So rich people could fall in love, too.
Voices came from the hallway, and everyone swiveled to see Ed usher in another couple. Allie couldn’t believe her eyes when a dark-haired woman with the lovely, serene face of a Madonna glided into the room. Allie stood up abruptly. “Claire? Claire Parker?”
Claire halted and stared. “Wait! Is that Allie Nichols?” she asked.
