Page 19 of Black Jack (Advantage Play 5)

How the hell does he know my name?

“Good day,” I grumble before stopping at the entrance. Then I turn to him and ask, “Can I ask you something”––I look at his nametag––“Barry?”

“Of course, sir.”

“How long has my fiancée been staying here?”

“She moved in last week, sir.”

“She said she found the place last week.”

“And moved in the very next day after putting down a sizable deposit,” he answers with a patient smile.

I tug on the collar of my black T-shirt, but it doesn’t take away the overwhelming feeling that I can’t breathe. “And do you happen to know what the rent is here?”

The bastard grins. “I can ballpark it if you’d like me to––”

Raising my hand in the air, I backpedal. “You know what? I don’t want to know.”

His amusement is contagious as he pats me on the back. “I think that’s probably for the best. Good day, Mr. Connelly.”

“Good day, Barry.” Then I head inside. The foyer in front of the closed elevator doors is empty. My greedy fiancée isn’t anywhere to be found. Stomping back to the exit, I ask Barry, “Do you happen to know what floor my fiancée chose?”

“Level twenty-eight, sir. The penthouse.”

“Of course, it is,” I mumble under my breath. “Thanks, Barry.”

“Sure thing.”

The elevator is hella fast and doesn’t give me enough time to rein in my temper as the doors slide open on the top floor. Marching toward the only door in sight, I raise my hand and pound it against the damn thing.

The door rattles in protest before swinging open to reveal a very amused Bianca.

“Fancy seeing you here, Jacky Boy.”

“And why’s that? Because you ditched me on the main floor? Scratch that, I believe it was the parking lot.”

Her grin widens to reveal straight, white teeth.

She’s gorgeous. Annoying as hell. But gorgeous. I’ll give her that much.

“You were taking too long,” she quips.

“I was a little busy admiring the place that’s so far out of my price range, I doubt I can afford to park here overnight. Tell me something, Bianca. How much do you think an FBI agent makes?”

She shrugs, then retreats back into the penthouse while leaving the door open for me to follow.

“I have expensive taste. So, sue me.”

“I might have to if you keep this shit up. I can’t afford this place, Bianca.”

“Sure you can.”

I grab her wrist and force her to look at me. “I’m serious.”

“Then find another job. You asked what I was expecting from a future spouse, and I expect him to be able to provide for me.”

She’s so damn frustrating!