Page 51
Story: Scorching Sienna
“Who owns this building?” My eyes meet with Jordan’s in the reflection of the paneling lining the elevator interior.
“Um. Damon does?” His answer comes out as a question while hegauges my reaction.
I am not even surprised. This is typical of Damon.
When the doors open, a man standing before them startles me.
He dips his head in greeting and then turns around, walking towards the entrance.
“Our escort,” Jordan explains as we follow him through the fancy lobby, out the massive double doors where a doorman holds the door open for us, and to a sleek black SUV.
Our nameless escort opens the rear passenger door and waits, his eyes darting around.
“I’m sorry. We haven’t met. I am Sienna. And you are?” I hold my hand out, waiting patiently for the man to introduce himself.
He is slightly balding, in his late forties, wearing dull brown clothing like a salesman or something.
“Bob.” He doesn’t move to shake my hand, just eyes it wearily, so I drop it, giving him one last look before I climb in the back.
The slam of the door behind me is followed by three more as all parties climb in.
“Where to?” Bob takes the phone Kai holds up, probably indicating Damon's location.
“Are you sure?” Bob seeks confirmation, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror.
No. “Yes.” I nod my head, adding more conviction to the softly spoken word.
“He won’t be happy. Are we on the list?” Bob asks the car in general as he starts the engine, pulling off into a road I don’t know. I don’t even know which area we are in. When we came here, I was in no state to take notice of my surroundings. I remember Damon mentioning it is close toSin.
“I’ll make the arrangements.”
I pull out my cell and then type in the number I recall seeing on Damon's screen for Marcello, my photographic memory once again reminding me of its usefulness. I had been berating it since The Reaping, but I didn’t want my gift to be painted and tainted in regret only.
“Hello.” Marcello's accented voice is gruff on the other side.
“Hi, Marcello. It’s Sienna. I’m really sorry to bother you this late.” The dashboard time reads twelve fifteen at night, and while I expect Marcello to be asleep, the noise in the background sounds like he is in a bar or a club.
“Ah. I wondered when you would call me. We missed you at the party tonight. Damon explained that you were unwell and couldn’t make it?”
Shit. The party was tonight. And Damon didn’t even ask me if I wanted to go.
“I am feeling much better. But I am looking for Damon. Apparently, he is at one of the events your son is holding tonight?” I try to keep my voice steady as anxiety wraps itself around me.
“He is. It is where the party is. You have the location?” Marcello’s voice comes through clearer as he moves away from the crowd.
“Yes,” I confirm, while Bob advises we are five minutes away.
“We are actually nearby. Can I and some friends pop in?” While I don’t doubt he would agree, I just hope Damon hasn’t instructed him not to allow me. What if he didn’t want me at this party tonight? What if he took someone else?
“Of course! I will even meet you at the door. Damon does not know you are coming?”
“Um. No. He doesn’t. It will be a surprise,” I say, trying to sound cheerful.
“That it will be.” A greeting follows Marcello's cryptic words, and we end the call.
“You know Marcello Garzalo?” Kai asks me. If it weren’t for the fact that there was a muscle attaching the bottom of his jaw to his face, it would certainly have hit the floor.
“Not well, but we have spoken at the club.” I blush as I say this, feeling somewhat foolish.
“Um. Damon does?” His answer comes out as a question while hegauges my reaction.
I am not even surprised. This is typical of Damon.
When the doors open, a man standing before them startles me.
He dips his head in greeting and then turns around, walking towards the entrance.
“Our escort,” Jordan explains as we follow him through the fancy lobby, out the massive double doors where a doorman holds the door open for us, and to a sleek black SUV.
Our nameless escort opens the rear passenger door and waits, his eyes darting around.
“I’m sorry. We haven’t met. I am Sienna. And you are?” I hold my hand out, waiting patiently for the man to introduce himself.
He is slightly balding, in his late forties, wearing dull brown clothing like a salesman or something.
“Bob.” He doesn’t move to shake my hand, just eyes it wearily, so I drop it, giving him one last look before I climb in the back.
The slam of the door behind me is followed by three more as all parties climb in.
“Where to?” Bob takes the phone Kai holds up, probably indicating Damon's location.
“Are you sure?” Bob seeks confirmation, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror.
No. “Yes.” I nod my head, adding more conviction to the softly spoken word.
“He won’t be happy. Are we on the list?” Bob asks the car in general as he starts the engine, pulling off into a road I don’t know. I don’t even know which area we are in. When we came here, I was in no state to take notice of my surroundings. I remember Damon mentioning it is close toSin.
“I’ll make the arrangements.”
I pull out my cell and then type in the number I recall seeing on Damon's screen for Marcello, my photographic memory once again reminding me of its usefulness. I had been berating it since The Reaping, but I didn’t want my gift to be painted and tainted in regret only.
“Hello.” Marcello's accented voice is gruff on the other side.
“Hi, Marcello. It’s Sienna. I’m really sorry to bother you this late.” The dashboard time reads twelve fifteen at night, and while I expect Marcello to be asleep, the noise in the background sounds like he is in a bar or a club.
“Ah. I wondered when you would call me. We missed you at the party tonight. Damon explained that you were unwell and couldn’t make it?”
Shit. The party was tonight. And Damon didn’t even ask me if I wanted to go.
“I am feeling much better. But I am looking for Damon. Apparently, he is at one of the events your son is holding tonight?” I try to keep my voice steady as anxiety wraps itself around me.
“He is. It is where the party is. You have the location?” Marcello’s voice comes through clearer as he moves away from the crowd.
“Yes,” I confirm, while Bob advises we are five minutes away.
“We are actually nearby. Can I and some friends pop in?” While I don’t doubt he would agree, I just hope Damon hasn’t instructed him not to allow me. What if he didn’t want me at this party tonight? What if he took someone else?
“Of course! I will even meet you at the door. Damon does not know you are coming?”
“Um. No. He doesn’t. It will be a surprise,” I say, trying to sound cheerful.
“That it will be.” A greeting follows Marcello's cryptic words, and we end the call.
“You know Marcello Garzalo?” Kai asks me. If it weren’t for the fact that there was a muscle attaching the bottom of his jaw to his face, it would certainly have hit the floor.
“Not well, but we have spoken at the club.” I blush as I say this, feeling somewhat foolish.
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