Page 207 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
Hugo’s brow arches, but since Brandon is so eager to get on the road, he fails to pick up on Hugo’s silent annoyance.
“Thanks.” I wait for Brandon to juggle my bags into the idling elevator before shifting on my feet to face Hugo. “We’re traveling in the one car because not only will it save the environment with fewer emissions, it’ll also stop yourbabyfrom getting too many miles on her clock.” I strive to keep my tone neutral to smother the unease in the air. “Brandon even agreed to let you drive.”
Hugo does a good job of keeping the tick of his jaw out of his words when he says, “The driver also maintains control over the radio.”
“As long as it isn’t country, I’m fine with that.”
“There’s no possibility of thateveroccurring.”
Our banter brings back the Hugo I was verbal wrangling with before Brandon arrived. Who knew a man four inches shorter than him and a hundred pounds lighter could rile him up so much?
I dash back into my room to grab my cell phone and charger off the bedside table. I don’t want a flat battery having me miss out on another arousing phone call. Last night was the first time I’ve participated in phone sex. I’ve sexted and sent the occasional raunchy pic to boyfriends during my younger years, but I’ve never orgasmed during a phone conversation before. I’m not usually so bold, but Isaac’s deep, commanding voice had me paying careful attention to every syllable he spoke.
I thought I’d be too embarrassed to get myself off, but Isaac’s pleasurable moans soon took care of that neurosis. Add that riveting experience to the four-mile run Hugo and I undertook yesterday afternoon, and exhaustion soon overtook me. I fell asleep with a smile on my face, my cell attached to my ear, and not a single negative thought in my head.
After housing my phone into my jeans pocket, I follow Hugo out of Regan’s apartment. The air is forcefully removed from my lungs not even a second later. Since my steps were ultra-springy, I crashed straight into the back of Hugo when he suddenly stops walking.
“A little warning next time…”
My playful scorn fades away when I discover the reason for his abrupt stop. Clara is standing across from us. She’s wearing a Yves Saint Laurent red and black floral satin shirt with black leather pants. She’s the most casual I’ve ever seen her, but she’s stunningly beautiful.
“Hi, Clara.” I grit my teeth, loathing that my greeting came out with a quiver.
“Isabelle.” She flashes a smirk that makes it seem as if she has the world at her feet before she closes her apartment door—the same apartment door that once belonged to Isaac’s fuck pad.
As bile burns the back of my throat, I walk shoulder to shoulder with Clara to the elevator bank at the end of the hallway. Thankfully, the elevators are programmed to ascend straight to the penthouse floor. Unfortunately, that means the thick stench of awkwardness plaguing the corridor will soon move into the even smaller confines.
“Have you been living here long?” Even with my insecurities wreaking havoc with my stomach, my quintessential need to know everything means I can’t help but pry.
“No. I only moved to Ravenshoe two months ago.” Clara gestures for me to enter the idling elevator car before her. I’d buy her class act if I weren’t delivered with a devious smirk. “But I’ve stayed at the apartment manytimes previously.”
It could be paranoia and perhaps a dash of jealousy, but I’m certain her tone came out bitchier this time around. “Isaac said you’ve been friends for several years, so I’m not surprised you’ve stayed with him. He’s very accommodating to his friends.” I literally have to strangle my words out of my mouth, and even then, they’re delivered with a scowl.
Clara’s red-painted lips lift into an illustrious grin. “Friends?I’m reasonably sure Isaac has never takenfriendstothatapartment.”
Since I’m preparing my heart for its imminent collision with my stomach, Hugo replies to the insinuation in Clara’s tone before me. “That’s enough, Clara.”
I touch his forearm before shaking my head. I’m more than capable of handling my own when it comes to bitchy, jealousy women. When I take a step closer to Clara, victory heats my blood. I barely moved, yet intimidation still flashed through her eyes.
“If you’re insinuating that something happened between you and Isaac, you can quit right now. I asked Isaac weeks ago if there was anything between you two. He assured me nothing like that had happened, nor will it happen.”
When the elevator arrives in the lobby, I adjust my satchel before pacing out of it. I freeze just outside the doors when Clara’s nasally voice screeches through my ears. “I suggest you ask Isaac again as the circumstances of ourfriendshipaltered since your original interrogation.”
She has the most patronizing smirk stretched across her face, but before I can remove it, the elevator doors snap shut before it continues its descent to the parking garage one floor below.
“Izzy—”
The plea preparing to flow from Hugo’s mouth stops when I cut him off with a glare. “Just give me a minute.” Like a minute will be sufficient to calm the anger tearing me in two. “Just one goddamn minute.”
When he nods, I move to the side of the lobby so I can take a moment to contemplate my next move. If I call Isaac, I fall straight into the trap Clara planted for him. If I don’t, paranoia will eat me alive until my question blurts out of my mouth at the most inappropriate time, so I may as well get the inevitable over and done with.
After yanking my cell out of my pocket, I hit the speed dial for Isaac’s cell, then press it to my ear. After several painstakingly long rings, he finally answers. “Isaac Holt.”
I’m taken back by his abrupt greeting. My number is stored on his phone, so he’d know who’s calling him, wouldn’t he?
“Hey, it’s Isabelle—”
“I’m aware of that. Now isnota good time.” His tone is similar to the one he uses when talking to members of his staff.
