Accidental Tryst (Charleston #1)(14)

Emmy





We're here," the cab driver said as we lurched to a stop, and I looked out the window at the bleak surroundings. Gray buildings, rusty wrought iron railings and sidewalks with trash blown up into the corners like cobwebs. I swiped my almost maxed-out credit card and signed the receipt.

I needed to ask Suit Monkey to forward my confirmation email from Airbnb to his phone so I could double check the address of where I was supposed to be staying after I visited David. I pulled out the phone just as it buzzed with a text from himself, asking me to forward him his assistant's contact info. I quickly looked up "Dorothy (Assistant)"in his address book, finding her between "Debbie (don't answer unless you're in a dry spell)" and "Dude from Vale (with the ski pass hookup)." I scrunched up my nose, forwarded Dorothy's contact to my own phone number, then climbed out of the cab.

I took my wheelie bag from the cabbie and hefted my purse onto my shoulder. I pulled my cardigan closer around myself to ward off the late spring chill. Gray afternoon clouds had rolled in. I'd have to text Suit Monkey later.

I was late. David was probably going out of his mind waiting for me. David whom I hardly ever saw because he was here in this rundown part of New York, and I was in sunny South Carolina. If only I could figure out a way to get him there. Hopefully I could get some advice from the administrative offices or the social workers at his facility while I was here.

An orderly was sitting on the steps, smoking. His short dreads bobbed as he listened to whatever was piping through the earbuds nestled in his ears. I'd know that figure anywhere.

The orderly looked up and caught me smiling. "Emmy girl, is that you?"

"Sure is."

D'Andre stood, his six-foot-five frame blocking the view up to the front door as he reached out a fist.

I bumped it with my own. "Who are you listening to these days," I asked.

"Logic," he replied, and he reached for my bag. "He's a genius."

"I'll take your word for it. And you still working on your own lyrics?"

"Sure am. Started a YouTube channel."

"Huh. That's the second person today."

"Rappin on YouTube?"

"No, at least, I don't think so. Just gaming or something. Anyway, how's David?"

"He's been going out of his mind waiting for you. And man, trying to tell him not to call you?" D'Andre shook his head. "That was not fun. What happened to your phone anyhow?"

"Long story. Accidentally switched phones with a total stranger. But the bottom line is I won't have access to that number for at least the next few days. I'll give you the number I'm using, but you'll have to monitor him, he can't keep using it after I get my phone back. The man on the other end is a self-important one-percenter." A funny one who I'd enjoyed bantering with, but still . . .

The thought of Trystan Montgomery in his busy suit-wearing life having to deal with David's calls every day could be quite entertaining. It would drive him crazy. I smiled to myself. If it wouldn't upset and confuse David, I'd totally let it happen.

"Intriguing." D'Andre grinned, and we headed up the stone stairs and into the bright fluorescent-bulb-lit lobby.

"Irritating, more like." I huffed then arranged to keep my suitcase in the office while I visited with David.



* * *



David was sitting in the chair by the window in his small room when I entered. If he sat in one certain spot, he could see down the street, between the buildings and to the water of Rockaway Inlet that led out to the Atlantic Ocean.

"This isn't Manhattan," David said as I entered. "I was told I'd be staying in New York."

"It is New York," I said softly so as not to startle him. His gray hair was clipped short, thanks to D'Andre I was sure. Haircuts weren't administered nearly as neatly or as often as I knew David was used to even though I kept his account stocked with funds for all the extras like haircuts and adult diapers. He turned toward me, his eyes not lighting with recognition. I never knew what I would get when I visited him.

"No. It's not. That is not the Hudson River, I'll tell you that much."

"You're right, we're not in Manhattan, but we're just outside. We're near JFK airport."

David nodded, his eyebrows rising. "That's very useful. Noisy, I bet. But probably smart given all the traveling I have to do this coming year."

I smiled and perched on the end of his hospital bed so I could face him in the chair. "Traveling? Where are you headed?"

David grunted. "My job takes me all over. You have to keep an eye on the Far East manufacturers, you know? My clients would skin me alive if I hadn't personally visited and approved of all their investments."

"Huh." I nodded. "You have a very important job."

"It's a big responsibility managing other people's money. They have to have the utmost trust in you." A shadow passed over his rheumy eyes.

I swallowed, hoping his mind wouldn't serve up the reality of his situation and what had happened to him and his business. "So, what's the food like at this hotel?" I asked, buying into his odd reality.

David's eyebrows rose. "Oh well." He smiled. "It's the best of course. Normally I avoid hotel restaurants, but this one is pretty good. And it's very entertaining. There's a Chinese family that runs it. Their kids are a hoot. The two daughters are acrobats. They do an incredible show where they hang from the ceiling during dinner."