Raine (Gods of the Fifth Floor #2) - M.V. Ellis Page 0,59

beast sounds like a tank crossed with a rocket. Second, it’s a yellow Lamborghini. Look around. Almost every other car here is black, or something equally discreet and unassuming. This stands out like a beacon.” It was true. The Lambo was anything other than inconspicuous.

“I was a little early.” Which had also literally never happened before. “So, I figured I’d wait.”

“So that you could then be fashionably late?”

“Something like that. Busted. We’re definitely still on, if you’re still into it?”

“I am if you are.”

“Okay, good, wait there. I’ll come and let you in.” I got out and jogged around to the passenger side to open the door for her.

Once we were underway, we drove in silence for a while.

“I hope you like Chinese food. I guess I should have thought to ask you that before now.”

“I eat pretty much anything, except offal.”

“Noted. I’d better cancel the mixed platter of sweet-and-sour kidneys, hearts, and livers I ordered then, huh?” I chuckled.

“Funny. Where are we going, anyway?”

“Just a little place I know downtown.”

“Downtown Brooklyn?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Oh, no reason.” There totally was a reason, but she obviously had no intention of telling me what it was.

I pulled into the vertical parking garage a few buildings along from the restaurant, and flicked the keys to the parking attendant. “Thanks Anton. We’ll be a couple of hours.”

“I can’t believe you drive around the city. Parking sucks.”

“Not when you know the right people and places.”

“And have enough money,” she added.

“That too. Come, it’s a few doors down.” We started walking and I pulled up alongside her and draped my arm around her shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. Which it fucking wasn’t. I realized it would seem weird or rude if I pulled away at that point, but the urge was really strong.

“What is this place?” She eyed the door suspiciously, and I didn’t blame her. It was unmarked, and definitely didn’t look like much of anything.

“Don’t worry, it’s not my lair. Trust me.”

“Hmmm...” She was definitely not sold on the idea.

“Oh, that’s right, you don’t trust me. We established that before. Okay, well you don’t have to come in if you’re not sure. No harm, no foul.”

“No, it’s fine. Michelle knows who I’m with and is tracking my phone with the Where’s My Buddy At? app. If you chop me into tiny pieces, she’ll know who to lead the police to.”

“Well, that’s a lovely way to start the night, but you can relax—I’m not going to dismember you or force-feed you offal. Seriously, chill.” I pushed the door open and led her through it, and down the admittedly dingy stairwell. She was probably freaking the fuck out. “Oh, and by the way, there’s no cell reception down here, so if I was a serial killer, that would foil your plans anyway.” It was mean, but I didn’t really care. She’d kind of asked for it.

Once we got into the bustling dining room, I turned to look at her, taking in her wide-eyed shock.

“Amazing, isn’t it?”

“Wow, it’s like Little Shanghai in here. Not that I’ve been, but how I imagine it to be.” She wasn’t wrong, and I was sure she hadn’t yet noticed that we were the only patrons not of Asian descent.

Our waiter approached, and I took him into a bro shake and a hug, greeting him warmly and chatting animatedly for a few minutes in Mandarin until he stared pointedly to my right.

“Oh, I’m sorry, where are my manners?” I switched to English.

“What the fuck are you talking about, bro, you don’t have any. Everyone knows that.” He laughed loudly.

“Whatever, you jackass. Noa, this is Tom. Tom, this is Noa.”

Tom reached out for her hand and kissed it, smiling broadly. “Noa. What a beautiful name. Welcome.”

Noa smiled back, her eyes lighting up vividly. “Thank you. So nice to meet you, Tom.”

“Oh, now. The pleasure is entirely mine.” That smooth fucker. I instantly felt a strong urge to knock his head clean off his shoulders.

Noa looked thoroughly confused by the whole situation, and I didn’t blame her.

“Tom and I grew up together,” I offered by way of explanation.

“Oh, you did? In China?”

“In Manhattan.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“His mom worked for our family, and part of the deal was that she brought Tom to work with her sometimes. We’re a few months apart in age, so I was stuck with his ugly ass when I was home from boarding school during the holidays, and the occasional weekend. His mom didn’t speak much English, so