Charity Case - The Complete Series - Piper Rayne Page 0,216

curious to see Roarke’s condo.

“Thank you, Will.” I grab some cash from the front pocket of my purse and hand it over.

He shakes his head.

“I’ve already been tipped for the entire weekend. So have the other doormen. Please enjoy your stay, Ms. Crowley.”

The elevator doors shut, and I put the money back in my purse.

“He’s such a jackass,” I murmur. Lucy’s head turns in my direction with curiosity. “Two days, little one, and then we’re down to three favors left.”

The elevator doors open on the eighty-fifth floor.

“What? He didn’t have the extra mil for the top floor?” I mumble to myself, tightening the leash on Lucy as we walk down the hallway.

I keep walking and there are no doors anywhere, no signs to where I need to go, and I feel like I’m walking in a circle until I land in front of a door with the number he texted me. He could’ve given me more specific directions. There’s no way he owns this entire floor. Then again, the man screws rich people over for a living. I know from what I had to shell out to my own lawyer that they don’t need to clip coupons.

I insert the key, Lucy sniffing the door like she’s a drug dog and can’t wait to make her master proud. The door lock clicks and Lucy jumps, pushing it open the rest of the way, running into the condo.

Having her leash wrapped tight around my wrist, I lunge forward. My purse lands with a thud and the contents spill out across the expensive marble floors. My overnight bag drops but luckily my computer is cushioned between my clothes.

“LUCY!” I yell, but she’s running from room to room, sniffing out the cat, I assume.

I think I’ll be using that number soon. I smile to myself as I get up off the floor.

A tiny silver fur ball runs past me and hides under the couch and Lucy resorts to sniffing around the perimeter of the piece of furniture, allowing me to soak in his condo for a minute. It’s decorated in hues of grey, blue, and white with dark floors and huge windows that give a different view from each room.

Bastard might not have the entire floor, but he’s got half.

I set off to explore some more, finding that his place has three bedrooms, each with their own bath and an office that looks like it’s rarely used. A huge living room is in the center of the space and sits open to a kitchen and a long dining table that runs the length of one of the large windows.

Everything is clean and orderly like I assumed it would be. There’s no beer cans or giant televisions that overpower a room, no clothes hanging out of a hamper or dried toothpaste in the sink. A perfectionist lives here. Though I already suspected that about him.

Lucy continues to circle the couch, sniffing for her prey.

I notice a piece of paper on the kitchen counter and so I head over to find a list of instructions in his sloppy man’s handwriting. I half expected it to be typed up by his assistant.

Hannah,

Thank you. As you probably already know by now, I hired a dog walker. He’ll come four times a day and they have access to my apartment so you don’t need to be here to meet them. Also, as you probably know by now, all tips to doormen for the weekend are already paid. Please don’t try to overtip them—they will refuse you.

I make a childish whatever face and roll my eyes to myself.

“Kitty” gets fed twice a day. Soft food is in fridge. Hard food in cabinet. Water obviously.

I have no plants to water and the cleaning service was there right before you.

One last thing, I’m trying to keep Kitty out of my guest bedrooms, so you can sleep in my bed. Before you sigh, all sheets have been freshly washed.

I’d love for you to stick around on Sunday for dinner, but not enough to use it as a favor. The decision is yours.

Enjoy your weekend,

R

“Seriously?” The note slips from my hand down to the counter along with a written list of take-out places nearby.

ARF!

“Jesus, Lucy, leave the cat alone.” I turn around to find the small little kitten peeking its head out from under the couch. Lucy looks like she’s trying to get her huge-ass head under the couch, too, to join him.

Until this moment it didn’t dawn on me that it’s a little