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It took twenty minutes, but she finally found him behind a babygate Garrett must have had installed in the guest bathroom next to hers. A note taped to it informed her that someone from the building’s concierge service would be by to walk him around lunchtime.
“Good Lord.” She laughed, picking the kitten up and cuddling him. “Does he think cats get walked?”
The kitten purred in response.
Comforted by the little creature’s warmth, she kept stroking him as they walked around. “Maybe I should have told Mr. Moneybags that I don’t have to go in until ten thirty. Do you think we should explore?”
The kitten continued to purr. “Agreed, we definitely should.”
Garrett had neglected to give her a tour, and though the basic layout was like Georgia and Rainer’s apartment, the bits she’d seen were furnished and decorated with a completely different aesthetic than their place.
Next door was modern comfort with fun, edgy pieces. This place was a straight-up bachelor’s paradise with an almost embarrassing amount of leather. Not to mention the glass and dark polished wood.
It was like living in a cigar bar. Or at least what she’d always imagined one looked like.
And so began their explorations. In addition to that suspiciously well-stocked bar and gourmet kitchen was a plasma TV so large it could have replaced a classroom projector in a very wealthy school district.
She also found the gym, which had a dozen intimidating exercise machines, a motorized lap pool, and a hot tub. This was in addition to the spare bedrooms and the office-slash-library where she found a stash of magazines in a drawer.
Garrett graced the cover of each one. Most were business or real estate related but there was one with Most Eligible Bachelor emblazoned on it. He looked disgustingly hot in that one, sitting in a chair with his tie undone, she admitted with a frown.
His pose was that of a man about to call it a night and go to bed. The beautiful woman who would accompany him was not shown, but in Emma’s mind, she was strongly implied.
She took that one out of the drawer, snapping a pic ofthe cover in case the magazine mysteriously disappeared after she hung it on the refrigerator like a child’s art piece.
That task done, she wandered a little more, ending her self-guided tour in front of the master suite.
“For shame, Meowmus,” Emma chided as they contemplated the closed double doors. “We can’t go rifling through our host’s underwear drawer. That would be highly inappropriate. And we’re not going to go through his medicine cabinet either.”
Besides, his wouldn’t be anywhere near as interesting as mine.
She stroked the cat, her mood nose-diving as a rain of multicolored pills fell in her mind. “Great. Now I’m depressed.”
Shaking it off, she put Meowmus down on the floor. “Come on. Let’s go rearrange something and not tell him.”
Chapter Eighteen
GARRETT
He spent the entire drive to the office planning Emma’s move to one of the downstairs apartments. As soon as he got upstairs, he’d call the building concierge to arrange it.
“Christian Grey,” he muttered, stomping his way through the parking garage. “I’ll give her Christian Grey.”
An image of Emma tied to his bed flickered through his mind and he swallowed, pausing with his finger over the elevator button.
Yeah, don’t go there.
Except his uncooperative brain insisted on painting that picture in graphic detail, adding the memory of Emma in the towel just to torture him.
That toasted almond skin wasn’t a tan. No, it was too even, her upper arms the same shade as the tops of her breasts and lower thighs. He made a mental note to buy bigger towels. For the sake of his sanity.
Damn. He wasn’t going to call the concierge, was he?
Fletcher didn’t take the news of his current living situation well. “You moved her into your apartment? Are youcrazy?”
“It’s a good deed, Fletch,” he said, dropping into his leather chair with a grunt. “Ever heard of one?”
“This is exactly what Celeste warned you about.” His partner buried his face in his hands. “This is wrong on so many levels, I can’t even count them. She is youremployee.”