he pinched the hat, gray water droplets burst from the knit and ran down his temples.
“Oh my God,” Hara said, “we’re soaked in nasty floodwater. I’ve probably got hepatitis and Ebola.”
“Let’s get out of here before they decide to put you in isolation.”
Isolation. That made her think of her father. Hara pictured Thomas in his cell, worrying about her. If her father had access to the news, then he would know that the arena lost power during the game and Boston was flooded, but he wouldn’t be able to find out anything more. He might be a jerk, but he was her jerk, and she didn’t like to think about him worrying about her. She’d already texted Carter and her mother, to let them know she was safe.
Hara gathered her satchel and jacket, Derek grabbed her suitcase—the one he’d brought in not too long ago, after she’d told him to screw off—and they made their way out to the entrance. Derek brought the SUV up to the front doors, one more sign of polite kindness. Whatever he was thinking, or whatever his motives, she was grateful she didn’t have to walk out into the rain and wind again. Oregonian or not, she was way over this storm.
They sat in silence as he drove, but it felt more peaceful than last time. He clearly wasn’t a talker, and for now, she was okay with that.
After what seemed like forever, Derek said, “We’ll be there in a few minutes. Are you hungry? Do you want me to stop? If you can wait, and you’re not picky, I do have stuff to make sandwiches at my place.”
“If it’s okay with you, I would rather not stop anywhere. Let’s just go home.” She clicked her teeth. “I mean, your home. Ha. I would love to be at home, my home, though I don’t know why. My mom is sweet but she would just drive me crazy.”
“You live at home?” Before she could answer, he must have noticed her face and said hastily, “I don’t mean that as an insult. Personally, I’d slit my wrists if I had to be back at my parents’ house, but that’s just me.”
“Oh, I wasn’t kidding about my mother. She’s unbearable sometimes. I’m only back at home until I can find a job with a city paper.”
“Sportswriting.”
“That’s the dream.” Though the dream had been foggy lately.
They pulled up into a massive portico that fronted a glass and steel high-rise. A valet met them, opening Hara’s door. She expected to get the stink eye, considering the state of her clothes and hair, but the man in gray livery was nonchalant. “Madame? Sir? I’ll have your things sent up to the penthouse, Mr. Darcy, if you would like to go straightaway.”
He reached for Hara’s satchel, but she politely declined. No way was she giving up her notes and her laptop, even for five minutes.
She was exhausted, incapable of fully appreciating the modern beauty of the lobby and even the elevator. Stepping from the lift directly into Derek’s foyer, she found herself in awe at the fact that he had his own elevator. Imagine. Yet, the apartment was gorgeous and spacious and welcoming, but not opulent. Derek’s style was minimalistic but with comforting touches.
He pointed her in the direction of a guest suite, a large room with a window seat, a four-poster queen bed, and a sunken tub in the bathroom. She immediately started the water, added liberal helpings of bath salts from a nearby shelf, and stripped out of her clothes. There was a bathrobe hanging behind the door. The bamboo material was plush; it was like putting on a robe at an expensive spa.
“Derek, what should I do with these dirty clothes?” she called into the hallway, cracking the door only wide enough to allow her voice out. Instead of yelling back, however, he appeared in front of her. Somehow, she had managed to be wearing a famous athlete’s bathrobe and he was just on the other side of the door.
“There’s actually a mini washer and dryer in a closet in the bathroom. By the way,” he said, holding up her suitcase so she could see it, “the doorman brought your clothes.” He set it on the floor in the hall and then held something up to the narrow opening. “He also found these on the back seat.”
“My glasses!” She clapped in delight and, not thinking, opened the door. As she reached for them, her bathrobe gaped open.