by a tenant or building personnel at all times. Seems like an odd rule, but this whole building is weird as hell. It’s just a bunch of rich assholes trying to see whose dick’s bigger.
I can’t help but wonder when I’ll break the news to the woman on her way up to the apartment. I mean, the polite thing to do is to at least feed her. Matthew did invite her up here for dinner. So as much as I’d rather just meet her at the door and give her the boot on behalf of my thoughtless brother, I won’t do it. She deserves more than what he’s giving her, so the least I can do is buy her some spicy noodles.
Funny, when I think back to the information my brother left me, there are pages and pages of details in regard to the building. Another page on the business deal I’m to help finalize, as well as computer printouts on the new design concept for the apartment. Yet, there was only half a page of details regarding Kyla. Three sad little paragraphs. That tells me one thing: he didn’t even take the time to get to know the woman he was dating.
It actually pisses me off on her behalf.
My brother has always been a selfish asshole, but this might be a new low, even for him. Matthew loves women. Hell, in college he went through them like Kleenexes. When I kept up with him early in his career, he had a new one on his arm every other night. He swore they always knew the score, and none of them seemed to care.
But this? This is new.
Why date her if he wasn’t even going to bother to find out what her favorite drink was or if she preferred staying in or going out? None of those details were in her information. But do you know what was?
Her bra size.
A knock sounds at the door. Like a man walking to the electric chair, I drag my feet and move slowly until I’m finally standing directly in front of the large piece of mahogany. When I glance through the peephole, I only see the man from downstairs. He’s directly in front of the me, blocking the view of the woman accompanying him.
Reluctantly, I disengage the lock and turn the knob. “Good evening, Mr. Wilder. Your guest is here,” he states, stepping aside and revealing the woman behind him.
The very beautiful woman.
“Thank you,” I croak, my throat suddenly extremely dry.
Kyla glances up, her hazel eyes look almost espresso under the dim hallway lighting. The moment our gazes meet, the earth moves. I actually have to grab onto the doorjamb to keep myself upright. In fact, I wonder for a brief moment if we’re experiencing an earthquake. I must be the only one feeling it though, because she doesn’t move to the doorjamb with me.
“Hello, Matthew.” The sweetest sound, the voice of an angel.
“Kyla.”
Her smile is slow and…endearing. Adorable, even. It’s not seductive, brimmed with red, harlot lipstick, as I would expect. There’s an innocence to it. Purity mixed with goodness and light. I realize Matthew is way out of his league here, and frankly, so am I.
I’m so screwed.
Chapter Four
Kyla
There’s something in his eyes that pulls my attention and holds it firmly in place. I’m not sure what exactly, but I’m drawn to those chocolate eyes more so than ever before, and I can’t place why. I’ve always been attracted to Matthew—I wouldn’t be dating him if I wasn’t—but there’s something different about him. Something softer and, dare I say, friendly about him.
In the short time I’ve known him, Matthew’s always been a passionate man. No, not with me, per se, but in business. I’ve read enough articles and heard enough talk to know he’s ruthless in the boardroom. He wants what he wants now and isn’t above doing what’s necessary to get it. I’ve come to admire his desire and drive, even if it’s not exactly directed toward me.
“Come in,” he states, stepping back to allow me entrance. He thanks the doorman who accompanied me to the apartment and closes the door softly behind me. “Can I get you something to drink?” he asks, stepping around me and walking toward the expansive kitchen.
“Oh, sure. A glass of red wine?” I ask, setting my bag and jacket down on the edge of the couch.
Matthew seems to stumble around the kitchen, which strikes me as odd. It’s almost like he’s nervous or something.