And everyone seems to be watching us. Staff and guests included. One person even pulls out a cell and takes a picture, for fuck’s sake. How rude. Beck either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. Guess he’s used to this level of attention. But it kind of makes me grateful for the clothes. They act as armor against all the inquiring eyes. Either that or these people are undermining my sangfroid. I don’t know. The shoes are pretty and the trench is kind of cool. I take comfort in this.
“We have a gift shop, barber shop, cocktail lounge, and a restaurant.” He nods to the people behind the lobby counter and guides me toward a bank of elevators. “I know they look old, but they work.”
“They’re beautiful. This whole place is. And it’s yours now?”
“I’m in charge,” he says as we step into the elevator. He pushes the button for the level before the top floor. Floor fourteen. Guess we’re taking a tour of the place starting at almost the top. Whatever. I’ll follow him anywhere. “But it’s still owned by the company at present. So I have family and other stockholders to answer to until the sale goes through.”
I nod. The elevator kicks off with the subtle clanking that modern money just can’t buy.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks.
“Lots of things.”
“Such as?”
“Well…this place is seriously impressive for starters.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
I stare at the floor for a moment. Elevators are so awkward. “Did you notice people staring at us downstairs?”
“It happens.” He shrugs. “Just ignore it.”
“Are you at the top of the most eligible bachelor list in this town or what?”
“The state list and I’m number two. Ethan holds the top place.”
Fuck me.
“It’s not who I am, Alice,” he says, tone particularly persuasive. “It’s just a side effect of the money. Ignore it, okay?”
Easy for him to say.
We arrive at the fourteenth floor and he draws a keycard out of his pocket. Whatever he wants to show me is down the end of a hallway lit by more cool old light fixtures. There’s an energy to Beck now that’s been absent since he was in California. Not that I expected him to be ecstatic when his father had just passed. But it’s nice to see him excited about life again.
After opening the door, he looks at me with a smile. “Go ahead. Have a look.”
“Okay.”
I head inside, taking my time checking everything out. If this is a big deal for Beck, then I want to give him his due. And it obviously is, because the man watches me like a hawk the whole time. The walls are painted graphite and the furniture is lush, just like downstairs, and upholstered in different shades of blue. A large open area has a living room, a long wooden dining table, and a galley kitchen with shiny white stone benchtops. There’s also a fireplace, ginormous TV, a bar and wine fridge…basically every luxury you could want. Floor to ceiling windows look out onto LoDo and there’s an outside sitting area with its own fireplace and Jacuzzi. It’s a lot to take in for a basic bitch like me.
“Are these the penthouse apartments?” I ask, heading to one end of the room. A study with a cluttered bookcase is the next thing I find, followed by a bathroom with pristine white tiles.
“No, those are upstairs. They’re double the floor space.”
“Wow.”
“They are nice,” he admits. “But I thought it best to keep those available for guests. This one is just for personal use. Figured we didn’t really need a grand piano or two extra bedrooms at this stage anyway.”
“This one is for the family?”
“If by family you mean you and me.”
I don’t know what to say. I’m starting to get the feeling I’m overusing the word “wow.” There’s every chance I’ll never become acclimatized to his wealth. Or at least, I hope not. Imagine taking this kind of beauty for granted. But on the other hand, Beck and I are finally getting some privacy. This is splendid.
“Actually thought Dad would have evicted me when I left,” he says, voice contemplative. “But he didn’t. Guess the old man was more bark than bite sometimes. At least when it came to his children. The things you learn when it’s too late.”
“This is where you lived before you went wandering?”
A nod as he leans against the closed door. “Lived and worked here. I oversaw the renovations last year. It was my project to prove myself to dear old Dad and the board.”
“You must be proud,” I say, heading toward the other end of the room. “This apartment is amazing. It’s a beautiful hotel, Beck.”
“Thank you. A lot of people worked hard on it.”
“I’m sure they did. But this place is your baby, isn’t it?”
He smiles.
And I just wait.
“This place…a lot of people thought it was worthless. Thought we should basically gut it and start over. More cost effective that way. Modern and flashy brings the people in, gets them spending. The board wasn’t interested in the history of the place or its story.”
“But you were.”
He shrugs. And it’s such a careless gesture, but his smile still lingers.
“You proved them wrong.”
“We’re making money; that’s what matters.”
“Don’t dismiss what you did here. I think there’s more than a little of the creative in your soul.”
He snorts. “Elliots don’t bother themselves with souls. Or consciences. Too inconvenient. We’re built and raised to be money-making machines.”
“You’re more than that.” I raise my chin. “And you know it.”
“Do I?”
“Yes. You wanted more. You went looking for more, remember?”
“And yet here I am, right back where I started.” He licks his lips, turning away. “Eventually, my plan is to build myself an empire by turning this into a chain of boutique hotels. Along with some other investments I’ve been nurturing.”
“That’s incredible.”
“The things you can do with money, huh? And yet you still won’t let me buy your love,” he jokes.
“Would you even want it if it was for sale?”
For a moment, he just stares at me. “Good point, dearest.”
He follows me into the bedroom where a massive bed takes pride of place, made up with white linens. There’s also some very cool charcoal-colored vintage style wallpaper and a pale blue chaise longue just perfect for reading. But back to the bed. It’s orgy size. And there’s only one.
“Wherever will I sleep?” I ask, testing the mattress with a hand for softness. Just the right amount of firm and bounce, thank you very much.
“Wherever you want.”
“And where will you sleep?”
“Wherever you want me to. With my jammies on, of course. We wouldn’t want to rush things.”
“Wouldn’t we? Remind me why not again.”
“My naughty Alice. What a delight you are.”
“The problem here is, you think I’m joking.”
“Oh, trust me. I take you very seriously indeed.” It might just be me, but Beck’s voice seems to have dropped about an octave. And it is sexy times music to my ears. He leans his back against a door jamb. Yes, there is definite heat in the man’s eyes. “Bathroom and closet are through here.”