Love Beyond Words (City Lights, #1)(32)

“Yeah?”

“If it’s not enough, then it’s not enough and you let him go. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I gotta go. My next client’s here.”

“Love you, Lib.”

“Love you, too. Oh, and Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh my god, I totally forgot!” Natalie clapped her hand over her mouth. “I’ve never had reason to pay much attention to it before…”

“Uh huh. I’ve changed my theory about his big secret.” Natalie could practically see her friend’s knowing smile. Liberty hummed a few bars of the “Here Comes the Bride”, laughed, and hung up, leaving Natalie to scowl at her old phone.

“That’s ridiculous,” she muttered. She rose to get dressed, buttoning buttons on her dress with hands that inexplicably trembled.

#

The car Julian sent to retrieve her was punctual to the minute. Natalie saw the black sedan pull up to the curb in front of Niko’s at seven o’clock. She smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of her dress. A vintage find, as was most of her wardrobe, this one a pale blue that cinched in at her slender waist, flared above her knees.

It seemed pointless to make the driver come up the stairs since she had seen him, so she grabbed her purse, sweater, and old cell phone and dashed down to meet him. He tipped his cap to her and opened the rear door.

“Good evening, miss.”

“Good evening.”

The car’s interior was impeccably sleek, with rich, gray leather seats and polished wood trim. A phone nestled in a console above her head, and a mini-bar sat tucked between the front seats, facing backwards for her use. On the seat beside her was a bouquet of velvety red roses in a bed of delicate ferns. Natalie’s hand trembled as she pulled the little card, so white against so much green and red, and read Julian’s tiny, precise script, almost like typeset.

Thank you for coming,

Love, Julian

The flowers were beautiful and filled the car with their rich scent. Natalie suddenly felt too plain. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask the driver to wait while she ran upstairs for a little more makeup perhaps, or a more flattering hairstyle. But the car was pulling away from the curb and she firmed her resolve to not give in to Julian until she had heard whatever it was he was going to tell her. She looked fine. She looked herself. If that wasn’t good enough, so be it.

“Do you work for Julian? Uh, Mr. Kova??” she asked the driver.

“No, ma’am. I work for a service.” He pointed at a card mounted on the dash that displayed his photo, name and license information.

She wanted to ask him where they were going but thought that might sound strange. Instead, she bit her thumbnail and watched the city glide by outside the tinted windows.

The driver took them along Geary and then to Market where the traffic was heavy. A caravan of white-yellow lights passed them in the deepening dark. Tall towers rose around her and the Transamerica building stabbed the sky.

Natalie craned her neck to admire the architecture of one fine complex, and then marveled as the driver pulled into its circular, hotel-like drive.

“We’re here, miss.”

Natalie blew out her cheeks. “Of course we are.”

The driver opened her door and took the flowers for her. She followed mutely as he went to the front of the building, to a doorman who wore a dignified grey uniform and a nametag that read Bernie. Bernie smiled from within old-world style muttonchops, took the bouquet, and ushered her inside.

“This way, miss.”

Bernie led Natalie across the marble-floored lobby. A set of richly upholstered couches and chairs took up the middle space, and live potted plants added warmth to the austere décor. A security guard sat ensconced behind an immense mahogany desk, his uniform a sedate blue bearing a large badge on the front. A desk lamp with a green glass shade illuminated a leather-bound tome.

“Miss Natalie Hewitt to see Mr. Kova?.”

“How did you know?” Natalie asked.

Bernie’s smile was grandfatherly. “Mr. Kova? told us to expect you.”

“Standard protocol, ma’am.” The security guard lifted the great book and rested it on the upper surface of the desk. “If you would just sign in, Miss Hewitt.”

Natalie did so, hoping she didn’t look as half as out of her element as she felt.

“Thank you, Miss Hewitt. Would you, Bernie?”

The doorman beamed. “Of course. Come, my dear.”

The security guard bid her good night as Bernie led her to the elevators across from the desk. When the doors opened, he gestured for her to step inside and then handed her the bouquet.

“Have a lovely night, Miss Natalie.”

Natalie felt a bolt of panic as she realized she didn’t even know what floor Julian was on. But before the doors could close on her, Bernie punched a button. Natalie blinked as the little disk marked “15PH” lit up.

“Thank you, Bernie,” she murmured as the doors closed.

The elevator glided upward until a gentle, refined bing announced her floor—the fifteenth floor penthouse. The doors parted and Natalie was confronted with a small anteroom with lush carpet and an elegant mirror hanging on the wall. At the end of the hall was a door left ajar. Julian stepped out.

“I thought I heard the bell.” Julian’s faint smile slipped. “The driver was supposed to give the flowers to you at your door.”