and drive. You can only float through life without a clue for so long. Right now, I’m not even earning an income and the idea of living off Beck does not appeal.
He clears his throat. “Beloved, did you happen by any chance to buy that chunk of rock sitting on the coffee table?”
“No.”
“Ah.”
“It’s clear crystal, quartz or something, isn’t it?” I ask.
Matías frowns at the thing. “Whatever it is, it’s bigger than my head.”
“Mother must have stopped by,” says Beck. “It’s probably to help protect us from bad vibes or something.”
I set my bottle down on the coffee table. “This is good, but if you don’t mind, I’m going to make myself a vodka and soda. Not really in the mood for beer.”
“This is your home now too.” Beck downs another mouthful. “You don’t need to ask me permission.”
“More than just a holiday, then?” asks the other man.
“Permanent, as far as I’m concerned,” says Beck. “But perhaps she needs persuading.”
“I’ve only been here for like forty-eight hours,” I intercede.
Beck’s silence speaks volumes. Underneath the hot and humorous exterior, he’s a man used to getting what he wants. Guess it comes with the money. And perhaps his disguised alpha dog tendencies. However, I have yet to meet an Elliot who doesn’t like control.
“Have a chance to look around yet, Alice?” asks Matías.
“I walked over to Larimer Square today. It was nice.”
Beck cocks his head. “You went out?”
“For a little while,” I answer.
“And Smith didn’t take you?”
“It’s only a couple of blocks.”
“Yeah, but…”
Matías stares out at the view in silence.
“But what?” I asked.
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I’m telling you now.”
This smile of Beck’s is one of the lesser seen ones. And it’s not the least bit genuine so it’s just as well. “Well, I like to know what you’re up to and I left instructions with the concierge. They were supposed to call Smith if you needed to go anywhere.”
“They asked if I wanted a car and I said no.”
Nothing from him.
“Is that a problem?”
It takes him a moment to answer. “I just want you to be safe and happy.”
“And I was both, thank you. You’re busy. You don’t need me checking in hourly.”
“No, but a message now and then to let me know how you’re going and what you’re doing would be nice.”
Guess that’s fair enough. Within reason. “All right. I’ll consider that in the future.”
“Thank you.”
“But I’m not comfortable taking up Smith’s time. Nor do I need a bodyguard. That kind of thing might be normal for your family, but it’s not for me.”
“Yes, but you’re new in town and you’re my girlfriend. So I’d feel better if—”
The doorbell chimes, cutting him off. Since I’m already on my feet I answer it.
“We’re not finished talking about this,” says Beck.
“Sure we are. You’re just in denial.”
In the hallway is a stranger carrying various bags, and Selah. A sure sign that the crystal isn’t protecting us from shit. She flinches at the sight of me opening the door to Beck’s apartment. Then she just stands there, looking at me expectantly. Why exactly, I have no idea. And again, I can’t help but note all of the differences between us. She’s just so damn perfect in so many ways. Except for the ones that matter, apparently. I square my shoulders. The girl will just have to get used to me standing in what was once her space, because I have no plans on going anywhere anytime soon.
“Damn.” Beck appears behind me, placing his hand against the small of my back. “I forgot.”
“Of course you did,” says Selah, barging into the room.
“There’s a charity gala tonight. They’ll be including a memoriam for my father.” Beck winces. “We’re required to attend. Or I am.”
I take a deep breath. “Right.”
“You don’t have to do this,” he says.
“Of course she does,” scoffs Selah. “It’s part of the job. Alice, this is Tex, your hair and makeup artist. He’ll set up in the bedroom. We’re on a tight schedule so let’s get moving.”
And Beck is pissed. Guess I wouldn’t want my ex in my home either. But the chill in his gaze is verging on arctic. “I’m certain Alice can handle this. Your presence is not required.”
“Your grandmother called Rachel, who sent me,” says Selah, dark hair immaculately drawn back in a bun. “Do you really want to take on those two?”
In response, he pulls out his cell, ready to make the call.
“It’s fine.” I place my hand on his forearm, giving it a squeeze. “Really.”