Page 80 of Billionaire Grump
Noah takes the hint. “Yeah, we should think about hitting the trail, Colt. I’ve got to stop by the office and pick up some paperwork Cleo was working on for me, about a legacy company I’m thinking of buying. It’s floundering and the price is right.”
We’ve finished eating and two people dressed in waitstaff uniforms are discretely cleaning up. They collect our dishes before disappearing. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Alexander has staff.
Alexander is holding me so close I’m practically sitting on his lap on the large couch. “I’m going to show Ivy inside,” he says. “You two can let yourselves out.”
Colton nudges Noah. “I guess that’s our cue.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Ivy,” Noah stands, reaching to shake Alexander’s hand. “Cash and I will be at your office at eleven-thirty tomorrow morning.”
“Right,” Alexander says, like he’d forgotten about whatever meeting they’d scheduled.
“We’re having an office party out at my Hamptons place a week from Saturday,” Noah says, to us both. “You two should come.”
“We might be away that weekend,” Alexander tells him.
Away?
That weekend?
Colton follows Noah’s lead, putting his shirt on. “Ivy, I’d kiss your hand like the gentleman I am, but I know from experience that Alex’s right hook is a doozy and extremely painful. I do have to tell you though that this is a brand new look for our esteemed and very lone wolf oldest brother and I’m digging it. I’m sure we’ll see you again. And you should also know that, despite the billionaire grump shtick, he’s without a doubt the most trustworthy person I know. I’ve never in my life heard him say something he didn’t completely mean.”
I smile. It’s somehow exactly the right thing to say. “It was nice to meet you, Colton. Bye, Noah.”
Noah grabs Colton by the scruff of his shirt and pretends to drag him away.
“Bye, Ivy!” Colton yells.
The elevator to the street level closes behind them and Alexander pulls me by the hand toward the open glass and steel sliding doors leading into his apartment. “Sorry about them.”
“They’re nice.”
He leads me inside and I’m speechless for a few seconds.
His apartment is unreal.
The room is open plan and so spacious I wonder if this room takes up the entire floor. Three walls are steel-framed glass, so clean it looks like there’s no glass at all. The twinkling lights of the city at dusk spread out like a textured, glittery carpet all around us.
All the furnishings are chunky and masculine, but comfortable-looking and very clearly the best that money can buy. A few tropical plants continue the theme from the outdoor area. Low lights illuminate a wall of built-in shelves, where spotlit compartments contain single pieces of glass, stone and metal sculptures.
It’s sort of minimalist but there’s a plush comfort to it too. The whole place sort of hums with safety and luxury.
“Wow.”
“I’ll give you a tour tomorrow. But right now there’s only one room we need to see.”
Alexander leads us down a swanky hallway with art on the walls. I pass by one of them and it looks vaguely familiar. I think it might be a freaking Picasso. The carpet’s so cushiony I feel like I’m walking on clouds.
He opens another door that leads into yet another gigantic area.
So I was wrong about the other room taking up the entire floor. This is the other half of it.
His bedroom.
Again, three of the walls are glass. His bed looks like it might be…is there such a thing as a double king?
I don’t know.
All I know is that the colors are muted, shades of gray and black, lit by the early evening setting sun over the city, down below and far away.