Collide (Collide #1)(64)

"You're not going to wait in the car. One, it's going to take a while because I have to go over a few things with him, and two, I want you to see what we will eventually be living in one day. His place is off the hook."

Emily let out a sigh. Nevertheless, fifteen minutes later, she found herself stepping out of the car in front of the building that housed her worst nightmare and her wettest dream.

After tossing his keys to the valet, Dillon pointed to the top of the massive structure. "You see that?" he asked Emily.

She tilted her head, her eyes following the slender ribbon of blue sky all the way up to the top of the building.

She nodded.

"That's where he lives like a f*cking king overlooking all of this." He spread his arms open, gesturing over the Lenox Hill area of the Upper East Side. "One day, we'll be living like him," he smiled, placing his hand on the small of her back.

With the tip of his hat, the door attendant greeted them, acknowledging Dillon by his last name like an old friend. When they walked into the Italian Renaissance-style lobby, Emily noticed a few people milling around, swathed in some of the most expensive clothing and jewelry she had ever laid eyes on. Looking down at her summer dress from Walmart and heels from Payless, to say she felt a little out of her comfort zone was an understatement.

The elevator ride up to the seventy-fifth floor was torturous for her. When she heard the cheerful ding before the doors slid open, she wanted to melt into the walls and camouflage herself into the grains of the wood. The long walk down to the end of the hall had her feeling as if she was a bloody piece of meat suddenly cast out into a sea of awaiting sharks.

One particular shark that is.

As they approached the door, Emily wiped her hand across her now sweat-beaded forehead, her heart drumming in her chest erratically.

Dillon gave a quick knock, and after what felt like forever, it opened. Behind it stood a buxom redheaded bombshell. Other than her smile, she was wearing nothing but pink-laced panties and a matching bra hidden beneath one of Gavin's white button-down shirts.

Unbuttoned nonetheless.

"Wow, you look great." Dillon beamed a smile at the woman, but it quickly dropped when Emily shot him a look.

"Hey, Dillon," the woman rasped, pulling him in for a hug. "Like, seriously, long time no see."

Crossing her arms, Emily shifted in her heels and plastered a smile across her face.

Dillon quickly eyed Emily, cleared his throat, and returned his attention to the woman. "It has been a long time, Natasha. I'm assuming the big man's home? I never called to let him know I was stopping by."

"Yeah, he's out on the terrace with his laptop. Like, you know how he is, all work and no play," she laughed. "I just happened to be coming out of the bathroom when you knocked."

Dillon nodded. "Yeah, I know how he is with work."

"Who's this?" Natasha asked, closing the door behind them.

"This is the future Mrs. Parker," Dillon smiled and curled his arm around Emily's waist. "Emily, this is Natasha Bradford. She's Gavin's...friend?"

"I'm Gavin's flavor of the month," she giggled. Emily's mouth hung slightly agape at the woman's statement. "But it's okay with me. I get things like this," she giggled again as she playfully fingered a diamond necklace.

"Well, you're lucky little duck." Emily replied, trying to will herself not to throw up.

"I am, I am," Natasha smiled. She then cocked her head to the side. "So, like, really, you two are engaged?"