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“No, nothing tonight. Thank you, Edward.”

“Have a lovely evening,” the man replied, pressing the button for the top floor.

Once the doors were closed, I turned to my father. “He was nice.”

“Yes, Edward’s great,” my father agreed. “He certainly makes this place feel a little more like home. It’s nice to have someone around who I can talk football with. We follow the same team although I think we’re both regretting that choice at the moment. They aren’t doing very well this year.”

“Are you talking about soccer?” I asked. “You like soccer?”

“Well, I call it football, but yes. I don’t get much time to watch the games these days, but Edward keeps me up to date.”

“Huh.” I frowned and faced the elevator doors once more. Every time I thought I had Matthew pegged, he said something or acted in a way that shifted my perception of him. I tried to picture him sitting down with a beer and watching a soccer match, but I just couldn’t visualize it.

I was still trying to wrap my mind around the small but altering fact when the doors opened. I expected to see a hallway in front of me, lined with doors to various apartments. Instead, I was greeted by the entrance to an entire apartment. Matthew’s home wasn’t just on the top floor. Itwasthe top floor. The space before us was a vast open-plan space with huge floor-to-ceiling windows. The view beyond truly caught my attention. I could see all of New York from here. It was breathtaking.

“Good evening, sir, Miss Isobel,” Caldwell said as we stepped from the elevator and into the apartment. I’d been so busy admiring the view, I hadn’t noticed he was there even though he was standing right by the elevator.

“Caldwell,” my father replied. “Are there any messages for me?”

“Nothing urgent,” Caldwell said. “Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes. I passed on your instructions regarding Miss Isobel to Jacques.”

I wondered who Jacques was and what the instructions could be, but Matthew was already dismissing Caldwell before I got a chance to ask.

“Thank you,” Matthew said. “That will be all for now.”

Caldwell stepped away, and Matthew gestured for me to follow him into the apartment. “I only bought the place recently,” he said, as we moved through the unnecessarily large entrance. “I couldn’t resist it when I saw the view.”

“I can see why,” I whispered. It was incredible, but I couldn’t begin to imagine how much the view alone cost.

“Would you like to see the place before we eat?” he asked.

“Sure.”

Matthew’s tour was much more thorough than Cress’s had been. He showed me around the bottom level first, which included the living room, dining area, and kitchen. There was music coming from the kitchen as we approached, and Matthew opened the door to reveal a man cutting vegetables behind a long island bench in the center of the room.

Matthew gave him a smile. “Isobel, this is our chef, Jacques” he said. “He’s worked for me for almost ten years now and makes the most incredible desserts you’ll ever have the pleasure of eating.”

Jacques lifted his eyes and nodded at Matthew before turning to me. I raised a hand to wave, and the chef winked in response before focusing back on the food he was preparing.

Matthew backed from the room, and I got the impression he didn’t want to bother the chef too much while he was working. As we continued the tour, he pointed at another door that led to his study but then directed me up the stairs and showed me multiple bedrooms, a library, what looked like another living room, and another study as well as a room totally devoted to a home theater.

I’d lost count of how many bathrooms he’d pointed out, and I was surprised to learn there was a third floor in the apartment, which consisted of two bedrooms separated by a long hallway. His bedroom was to the left, but he directed me to the room on the right.

“This room is yours,” he said. His voice quaked a little as he spoke like he was nervous. “You’re welcome to stay here whenever you’re in the city. I’m hoping you’ll be able to visit again soon.”

I nodded because the words stuck in my throat. Matthew had organized a room for me here too? I’d been so intent on grilling Matthew about the Hastings family tonight, but as I stood there, I realized this dinner was about so much more than that. I was flooded by thoughts of our conversation at the ball and his admission to me about how much he wanted me in his life. I was really beginning to see that he meant it.

This was just a bedroom, and Matthew clearly had more of them then he knew what to do with, but it meant more to me than he knew.

As he opened the door to show me the room, I wondered if I should backtrack on my previous thought. It wasn’t just a bedroom. It was practically its own apartment within the apartment. I had a whole lounge area to myself that was decked out with soft, plush couches and a fireplace against one wall. The bedroom itself was just as gorgeous as the rest of the apartment with sheer curtains draped over the long windows and a bed so large it could have fit three of me.

There was a huge en suite bathroom and a closet filled with clothing for me. The room even had its own balcony. Not that I had any intention of going out there. We were far too high up for my liking.

Just like it had been downstairs, the view outside the window was impossible to ignore. I could see the endless expanse of Central Park below me and the jagged New York skyline surrounding it. I could even see my father’s surname lit up on the top of his building, not far from here. I probably could have sat there staring at the view forever. It was hard not to be a little overwhelmed by it all.

I knew Matthew was wealthy, but this was beyond my wildest dreams. A familiar feeling that I’d been experiencing ever since I got to Weybridge came washing over me. I didn’t belong here. I’d slowly become accustomed to living at school, but this was a whole other level of extravagance.

“Are you ready for dinner?” Matthew asked.