Page 25 of Sweet Revenge
“Yes. Some idiot left it sitting out in the sun all day. My mother was furious.”
“Oh, I remember that.” He grinned. “You weren’t at school for a week. But you’re still alive.”
“Yes. Although to this day I hate potato salad.”
“No, I mean, you made it through take off.”
He gestured out the window, and she realized they were hovering above the asphalt and slowly gaining altitude. It wasn’t as steady as a plane, but it wasn’t as shaky as she had been anticipating, either. She let her body relax as she watched the trees drop away, the houses shrinking to colored squares on a green patchwork.
“Where are we going to be landing?”
“On the Upper East Side.” He pulled out his phone and brought up the address to show her. “Is it far from your place?”
“No.”
When she didn’t offer up more, he shifted to stare out the window, and she took the opportunity to study him. Even today, he was wearing a suit. Navy this time, with a perfectly pressed white button-down. Didn’t the man own a pair of jeans?
The stubble on his jaw was thicker, and she knew it would feel soft against her fingers if she trailed them across it. That was a dangerous and unproductive line of thinking.
If she was going to stay in Philadelphia, she had to figure out how to compartmentalize. She needed her past to stay in the past so she could focus.
ChapterFourteen
They rode the rest of the way in silence, and Declan was less successful at distracting her during the landing. By the time the blades slowed and he pushed the door open, he had to pry her fingers off the armrests. Once she was out, she leaned back against the side of the chopper, hands on her knees.
“I just”—she waved him away—“need a minute.”
Once she was steadier on her feet, he shouldered her go bag while she took her purse, and they rode the private elevator down to the lobby. They stepped out into the sunshine, and he followed her quick pace through the crowd. It was early yet, and they were surrounded mostly by professionals in suits and the occasional dog walker.
When they wound through the revolving door into the lobby of her building, the doorman greeted her by a name Declan didn’t recognize. She ignored his curious stare as they took the elevator up to one of the upper floors.
She opened the door to an apartment that was bright and airy. It was one big room that offered a view of the city through a wall of windows. What had Cait called it when she convinced Finn to tear down the wall between the kitchen and living room? Open concept.
It was a beautiful place, but something about it felt…empty. Like she lived there, but it wasn’t really her home. Modern art hung on the walls, and the furniture looked pristine in shades of earthy blues and greens.
A big flat-screen TV was mounted over the fireplace at the far end of the room, but the bookshelves that flanked it were styled with knickknacks rather than books. He found it odd that Evie, who’d always loved to read, wouldn’t have bookcases filled with books.
He followed her down the hall past an office and into the master suite. More windows, another stunning view, and a balcony he hadn’t noticed from the living room arranged with a table and chairs and some chaise lounges.
He handed her the duffle bag, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he wandered the room. Like the living room, she didn’t have anything personal in here. No photos, no mementos, nothing strewn about that made it look lived in, and he wondered if she’d recently moved in or she refused to settle in.
She moved into the bathroom first, and he could hear her rummaging around as he moved to the window to admire the view. He much preferred the quiet of Glenmore House and its estate. Even the penthouse he kept in the city was out of habit more than necessity or enjoyment.
She emerged from the bathroom and set a large toiletries case on the edge of the bed before disappearing into the closet and coming back out with a large suitcase that she left sitting open on the floor.
“Are you moving to Philly after all?”
“Your talents are wasted in the syndicate, Declan. You should be doing standup.”
He bit back a grin at her sarcasm. He’d missed that a little too much.
“I don’t know how long I’ll need to stay in Philly, and I’d rather pack more than I need than have to make another trip up here in that thing.”
He watched her neatly fold and then roll an array of shirts, pants, and dresses, deftly stacking them in the suitcase. She filled in the empty spaces with underwear and shoes, and he forced himself not to dwell on the fact that she seemingly hadn’t packed any pajamas.
When she finally zipped it shut and stepped back, he hefted it off the floor with a grunt, grateful the damn thing had wheels.
“Maybe you did come in handy after all.” She grinned.
