Page 31 of Edge of Darkness (Night Prowler 4)
Asher looked from her to Dante’s door, then back again. “I think so. Did we have any hallucinogens with lunch? Or maybe Dante was taken by a body snatcher. Because for him to not care about the rent is very…”
“Strange,” Ember finished quietly. Of course it had to do with Clare; the poor man didn’t want to waste any time with Ember discussing what a delinquent she was when he had so little time left to spend with his dying granddaughter. Another wave of guilt hit her, and Ember couldn’t remember feeling so ashamed in a long, long time.
Asher said, “Well, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, as my mother says. If he’s not worried about it, at least you’re off the hook until you can get it together. And look on the bright side; you don’t have to sneak into your own apartment anymore! C’mon, let’s get you ready for tonight. I only have a few hours to work on you and I’m going to need every minute.” He turned and began the four-story climb up the stairs.
Ember followed him silently, thinking about love and loss, thinking about courage and suffering, thinking about a pale little girl with a wide open spirit, and eyes like the desert sky.
Thinking about another pair of eyes, burning green and endless, eyes she would be gazing into in less than four hours’ time.
By the time the knock came on her front door at precisely seven o’clock, Ember had been pacing the living room floor so long she thought she must have worn visible grooves in it.
She’d been painted and polished and buffed to a shine by a deadly serious Asher who wouldn’t even let her speak during the process, such was his concentration. And when it was all over and he’d gone and she stood admiring his handiwork in the full-length mirror in her bedroom, she had to admit he’d done an amazing job.
In a pretty dress the color of apricots, high-heeled strappy sandals, and a thick, decadent cashmere wrap wound around her shoulders, with her hair washed and curled, and an expert makeup application that included smoky eyes and lips stained berry, she looked—well, pretty good.
In other words, she looked nothing like herself.
At the sound of the knock she froze, looked at the door, and released the thumb she’d been chewing from her mouth. Asher had painted her nails a delicate shell pink and he’d be horrified to see she’d already eaten a chip out of one of them.
“Maintain,” she whispered to herself, still staring at the door. “Maintain, maintain, maintain.”
The knock came again, a little louder, and propelled Ember out of her state of suspended animation. With sweating palms and a pounding heart, she crossed the room, turned the door handle, and swung the door open. She looked up with breathless anticipation—
Into the stern, unsmiling face of Christian’s driver.
“Good evening, miss.” He tipped his hat with one gloved hand. “Lord McLoughlin has been detained, but he desires for you to accompany me to the restaurant where you will await his arrival.”
For a split second there was confusion—Lord McLoughlin?—but then Ember’s fraught anticipation morphed to crackling anger. He sent his driver! He couldn’t be bothered to get here on time! She’d wasted her entire day getting beautified for this jerk and he was basically standing her up! And he actually expected her to sit alone in a restaurant waiting for him like some idiotic Disney heroine, pining for her hero to show up so her life could begin?
No. Not going to happen. Damn you, Fancypants!
Ember moved Christian from the category of Alpha where Asher had so erroneously placed him, straight into another category, the other one that began with the letter A.
“No, I will not accompany you, and I will not wait anywhere for his arrival! If he’s too busy to come himself, that’s all I really need to know!”
Because she was so mad, this was said a lot louder than Ember anticipated. The driver’s face paled. His eyes—vivid green like Christian’s, strange she hadn’t noticed that sooner—popped wide.
“Miss! Please, you don’t understand! If I don’t take you to the restaurant I’ll be in serious trouble! You must come with me, I implore you!”
He was so obviously taken aback at her reaction, and even more obviously terrified of what would happen if she refused him, it gave her a moment’s pause. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him, unblinking, the heat in her face matching the ire in her heart.
“What exactly is he doing that is so important he has to send someone else on his date?”
His face grew another shade paler. His voice trembled when he spoke, and had dropped an octave, sounding suspiciously near fear. “Working, miss.”
“Working.” Ember repeated it acidly. “He’s working.”
When the driver offered nothing more, Ember said, “Okay, I’ll bite. What kind of work does he do?”
Now the driver began to sweat. Light beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead and upper lip, and he removed his hat and began to twist it around and around in his hands. “I’m so sorry, miss, I don’t believe I’m allowed to disclose that.”
She pursed her lips. The man really seemed afraid. Curiosity got the better of her and she asked, “And what exactly will he do to you if I don’t come with you?”
The driver swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat. Unbelievably, his face went white. But no answer was forthcoming.
“Oh, forget it!” Ember threw her hands in the air. “Listen, I feel sorry for you that you work for such a dick, I really do, but I am not going to sit alone in some restaurant waiting on some rude, arrogant, inconsiderate man. You can tell Christian for me that I’d rather eat a hundred pounds of chupitos than ever lay eyes on him again!”
His brow twisted. He stared at her, utterly confused, the hat now clutched so hard between his fingers it had crumpled in the middle.
