Charity Case - The Complete Series - Piper Rayne Page 0,70

rounds the corner and presses the up button on the elevator.

Does everyone get this treatment?

“Thank you for the warm welcome.” I’m not sure what else to say since I’m unused to this kind of thing.

He chuckles quietly like we’re in a library.

“We’ve always got an eye on what’s going on around here,” he says and motions to the ceiling behind me.

I glance around to find cameras in every corner. Seconds later the elevator arrives and the doorman steps in, scans a card, and presses the button.

“When the doors open, step out and then knock three times, click your heels together and use one hand to pat your head while the other rubs your tummy.”

He laughs at his own joke and I lean in to check out his badge. Connor.

The elevator dings as we reach Reed’s floor and the doors slide open.

“I’m only kidding,” he says. “Mr. Warner will be waiting for you. Enjoy your evening.”

I step out and the door shuts behind me. Suddenly, fear washes over me as I think of what this night could bring.

The elevator didn’t take nearly as long as I needed it to and I slowly proceed down the hall, the plush carpet absorbing the sound of my heels. Soon I’m face to face with apartment number 1801. A gold plaque is secured to the outside of the door and it reminds me more of something you’d see in an office tower rather than a residential condo.

Pulling out my phone before I knock, I check out my teeth for the millionth time, finger my hair into position after the beating it took from the Chicago wind and pink my cheeks to give them a little color.

I’ve just finished taking inventory of myself when the door springs open and a mouth-watering Reed stands in the doorway.

“Hi,” I say, turning off my phone and tucking it inside my purse.

“Hey, glad you found me.” He steps to the side, his arm extended inviting me in.

“It’s like breaking into a bank.” I accept his invitation and try to keep my mouth from falling open in appreciation of the marble floors in the foyer.

From his address, I knew he was in the gold coast and when the taxi pulled up outside, I knew the condo would be on a level I was not familiar with. But marble floors, windows that span from one corner to the next and overlook Lake Michigan?

“Sorry, they take security pretty seriously here.”

The click of the lock has me turning to see him strolling toward me. He slides my purse from my shoulder and drops it on the big round table in the foyer.

“Jeez, Reed, you couldn’t afford the penthouse?” I joke following him into the apartment and to the kitchen.

“There’s a retired basketball player up there.” His voice doesn’t hold the sarcasm mine did.

“I was kidding.”

He glances up at me through his long eyelashes. “This was in my family. It’s convenient to the courthouse and the office.” He shrugs and goes back to the meal prep he must have been doing before I arrived.

“You must dread Mondays.” I toe out of my heels and meet him in the kitchen.

His knife pauses mid-cucumber and he waits for me to focus on him. “It’s the best day of the week.”

I blush, wanting to hip check him out of the way so I can have something to do with my hands, keep me busy and prevent me from making a fool of myself.

“So, there’s chicken and potatoes in the oven, and I’m just finishing with the salad.”

“I’m impressed.” I open the oven door and bend down to inspect his skills.

The room spins and fades in and out, my head feels heavy on my shoulders. I feel myself pitch forward, everything in my sight coming in flashes before I feel my hip hit the floor and blackness overtakes me.

“Victoria.” Soft knuckles drag down my face. “Vic.”

My eyes flutter open with some effort and Reed’s face hovers over mine.

Oh my God, I didn’t, did I?

“What happened?” I ask, already cringing because I think I know what he’s going to say.

“You passed out.”

Oh my God. How mortifying.

“Do you feel sick? Are you diabetic? Heart problems?” he asks in rapid-fire succession.

I giggle from embarrassment because it’s my go-to mechanism to hide what I really don’t want to tell him.

I sit up on his comfortable gray couch. How did I get all the way over here? “No. I just…”

He sits on the coffee table in front of me, his eyes concerned, his hands