Runaway Wolfes of Manhattan Three - Helen Hardt Page 0,45
Montana.”
He guffawed. “That’s something else. And the first thing you do is ask for the most famous model in New York. That’s awesome.”
I didn’t see anything funny about it from where I was standing.
“Wait,” he continued. “Here comes someone who might be able to help you.”
A young man ambled to the bar. He was pretty-boy handsome and dressed to the nines. Here I sat in my jeans and the one button-down I owned.
“Hey, Fox,” the barkeep said.
Fox?
“Hi, Johnny. I’ll have the usual.”
“You got it.” He set to pouring what looked like bourbon, but from a bottle I didn’t recognize. “This guy has a question for you.”
“Fox” turned to me. “Yeah?”
I held out my hand. “Matt Rossi.”
“Fox Monroe. Are you a fan?”
“Of who?”
Johnny guffawed again. “Fox here is a model.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. I don’t know any male models. I’m actually looking for a female model, though. Riley Wolfe. Do you know her?”
“Riley? Is she back? Last I heard she flew the coop again.”
“Flew the coop? What are you talking about?”
“She disappears from time to time. Kind of her MO.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. It irks the rest of us in the industry, but she gets away with it because she’s so good. Of course the Wolfe name doesn’t hurt either.”
“So you do know her.”
“Of course. She’s a pain in the ass for the rest of us, but I have to admit. She’s an amazing model. It all comes so naturally to her. The poise and the beauty. She carries herself like the old-school supermodels.”
“Old-school supermodels?”
“You know. Cindy Crawford. Naomi Campbell. Christie Brinkley.”
I nodded. Was it weird I’d only heard of one of those models? “She is certainly beautiful.”
“She got that from genetics. The rest is all her. She’d have an amazing career if she’d stop being such a flake.”
I tamped down the anger that threatened. “Seems she already has an amazing career.”
Fox took a sip of the drink that Johnny had set in front of him. “You’re not wrong. Damn, this is good stuff. Expensive, though.”
“What is it?”
“Pappy Van Winkle bourbon. Fifteen-year. I stumbled upon it by accident, and now I don’t want to drink anything else. Good thing I just got that Dolce & Gabbana contract.” He signaled to Johnny. “Pour one of these for Matt here.”
“No thanks. I’m on a budget.”
“It’s on me. Everyone should try this once.”
“Not really a bourbon drinker,” I said.
“You don’t have to be. This stuff is in a class all its own. Trust me.”
“Okay, man. Nothing like a Bud with a bourbon chaser, right?”
“Don’t chase it. Sip it.”
“Whatever you say.” I took a sip of the amber liquid Johnny set in front of me.
Smokiness and spiciness. Nutmeg. And man, it glided down my throat. No harshness at all. “Wow.”
Fox nodded. “Am I right?”
“Just for kicks, how much is this?”
“It’s a single.”
“I mean the price.”
“Ha! You don’t want to know.”
“Actually, I really do. And before you tell me, thank you. I appreciate the thought.”
“It’s sixty-five a shot here. Some places charge more.”
My mouth dropped open. “Sixty-five? Dollars?”
“No. Sixty-five potatoes. Of course dollars.”
“Fuck.” I took another sip. “It might actually be worth it.”
“No shit. I’ve tried to find it at local liquor stores and online. Even the distillery, but it’s impossible. It gets sold out as soon as it’s released, and most of it goes to high-end bars like this one.”
“Damn.” Another sip, and I was nearly done. No way could I afford another. “I guess you made a bourbon drinker out of me.”
“Nah. I made a Pappy’s drinker out of you. There’s a definite difference.” He signaled to Johnny again. “Another for my friend here.”
I shook my head. “No, thank you. It’s way too much.”
“Dude, I just got the contract of a lifetime. I’m happy to treat you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
He cocked his head. “You’re right, at that. Tell me about yourself, then. Specifically, why are you looking for Riley Wolfe?”
29
Riley
Did Dad ever take you hunting?
No wonder they were all staring. I’d been gone five minutes, and during that time, I’d become the subject of their conversation.
I sat down and tried to hold back my irritation. “No, he didn’t. And I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t talk behind my back.”
Five sighs of relief met my ears.
“Don’t you think I would have told you?” I asked.
“We didn’t know,” Roy said. “You never told us anything.”
“We could have helped you,” Reid said. “We were adults before you were. We could have gotten you out of his house. We could have petitioned the courts for custody. Or we could have—”
“Stop,” I