Page 62 of The Money Man
The door by Derek swung open. “All clear,” the driver said. “I’ll take one cat, but I need my other hand free.”
Alice realized he meant that he wanted to be able to draw his gun, which made John Peters’s shadow a lot bigger and darker.
Derek took Audley and their little entourage dashed from the car to the wood-paneled elevator, riding upward thirty-odd stories in tense silence. The doors opened directly into Derek’s penthouse apartment, but they had to wait inside the elevator car behind Pam while the driver checked all the rooms, which took longer than Alice would have expected. When they were finally released, Alice saw a collection of cat supplies stacked neatly by a staircase that soared upward in a double-height entrance hall. The sculptural chandelier that hung in the open space would have looked at home in an art museum.
“It’s two stories!” she breathed in awe, unable to wrap her mind around what the cost of such a huge apartment was. That explained why it had taken so long to make sure the place was empty of intruders.
“I think we should turn the cats loose in a confined area until they settle down,” Derek said. “We’ll do it in the media room so we have entertainment while Sylvester and Audley explore.”
Of course, he had a media room in a place like this. Alice grabbed the litter boxes while Pam hauled a bag of kitty litter and they both followed Derek and the driver down a wide hall lit by sculptural crystal-and-chrome sconces. The silver carpet was so thick that their footsteps were completely muffled.
Derek led them into a room furnished with a massive charcoal-colored sectional sofa positioned in front of a giant flat screen hung on the wall. One wall was entirely made of windows looking out across the dark shimmer of the Hudson River to the cliffs of New Jersey. But even as she watched, a heavy curtain, propelled by some unseen electrical control, was gliding across the glass to shut out the view.
She looked around for a spot to position the litter boxes but saw only more plush silver carpeting. The idea of the cats tracking their litter over it made her cringe.
“Let me see if your concierge brought mats to put in front of the boxes,” she said, setting down her load.
“I’ll get the rest of the supplies,” the driver said, heading for the door.
“Don’t worry about the carpeting,” Derek said to her. “It’s rated as resistant to even hot buttered popcorn.”
The mention of popcorn made Alice’s stomach grumble. A smile flickered across Derek’s face. “I’ll get some of the food I ordered in.”
After a flurry of activity, the cats’ area was set up, including food and water. A selection of takeout had been brought in for Alice and Derek, while the driver—whose name she finally learned was Christian—and Pam retreated to the kitchen to eat.
Sylvester and Audley had been watching the commotion with some suspicion, their golden eyes large in the dimness of their carriers. Alice opened Sylvester’s door first, picking up the big black cat and stroking him before sitting down with him on her lap. He stayed with her for a minute as he peered around and sniffed. His head swiveled toward the glass-and-chrome table holding the takeout and he leaped gracefully onto the floor to pad in that direction.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Alice said, grinning as she scooped him up and plunked him down in front of the gourmet cat food awaiting him. Sylvester took one inhale and turned up his nose before moving to inspect the litter boxes.
“He’s definitely a cat,” Derek said, his tone dry.
“You may have to guard our food,” she said.
He rolled his shoulders in a stretch, his shirt tightening to give a tantalizing hint of the muscles underneath. “On it.”
She released Audley, who immediately took off to explore the room. Both cats ended up eyeing Derek as he blocked their attempts to jump on the table with the human food.
“You can’t blame them,” Alice said, coming over to join him by the window. “It smells fantastic.” Her stomach growled again and she smacked her hand over it as though she could quell the sound.
“You need to eat.” Derek pulled out one of the heavy leather chairs for her.
She sank down into it, giving a little shiver when he brushed his lips against the side of her neck. As the sensation danced through her body, she felt his fingers tugging at the band holding her ponytail. “May I?” he asked.
“Yes, yes, absolutely.” Her voice was breathy with anticipation.
He eased the band down her hair, taking his time so she never felt a tug or snarl as her hair loosened. When the band slid off, she tilted her head back and shook her hair free, her eyes meeting Derek’s in an invitation. He took it, bending to slant his mouth over hers while his fingers tangled in her hair. He stroked one hand lightly down the taut line of her throat and skimmed it over her breast, making her arch up from the chair to feel more.
“No,” he said, dropping his hands and lifting his head. “Food, first.”
“Because we’ll need our strength for later,” she teased, even though her body was tight with frustration.
“Something like that.” He seated himself across from her and picked up a plastic container. “Try this chestnut pasta with wild boar ragù. It’s one of my favorites.”
“Are all of these your special choices?” she asked as she accepted a serving of the pasta.
He surveyed the array of takeout. “I suppose so. It’s easier just to order the usual.”
She made him tell her what each dish was because she loved this glimpse into his everyday life.
