Page 69 of Falling for Raine

More obnoxious cackling. I swiveled to face the city skyline.

“I see. And what happened to the estate in Cornwall?”

“Oh, God. That place is awful,” he scoffed. “It can rot for all I care. You have until the end of today to make a final offer. Call my people, and we’ll consider it.”

Was he nuts? Did it matter?

The maths still worked in my favor. Five million pounds was nothing in transactions of this magnitude. Sure, I hated this man, but if this deal could be salvaged, the markets would approve. Money and goodwill that was lost could be recovered and?—

“Fuck yourself.”

He sputtered. “Are you mad? Your reputation is ruined. Your stock is in the tank, and you’re not going to consider an offer to?—”

“No, I’m finished with you. I should have been a long time ago, but I mistakenly thought…” I shook my head derisively. “I thought getting even was the prize. It isn’t. You’re simply not worth the effort, Blower.”

I disconnected the call in the midst of a tirade cursing me and “my kind,” and you know, I wanted to call him back to thank him. For the first time in over a week, I felt like I could breathe.

I loosened my tie and stepped into my private lobby.

Bernadette looked up at me with concern. “Everything all right?”

“Of course.”

“What did you say to him?”

“I told him to fuck off,” I replied with a shrug.

Bernadette grinned. “Glad to hear it. Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

“Hmm.” I pulled off my jacket and tie and draped them over a chair in the lobby, then rolled up my sleeves.

“That’s the spirit. Go have a walk to clear your mind. Enjoy the sunshine, sir.”

“Thank you, but…I’m going to look for Raine. Wish me luck.”

Collins droppedme off in front of an Indian takeaway in Kensington and gave a small, encouraging nod when I told him I’d find my way home. I glanced up at the building and realized I had a problem. I had no idea which one was Raine’s. I’d picked him up and dropped him off, but I’d never been inside. I didn’t know his flat number, and it wasn’t on his contact info.

Are you home?

No response. Well, okay. I’d wait…or ring the doorbell.

I couldn’t tell how many flats were in the building, but someone had to be home. I pushed a buzzer to flat 2B…nothing. I tried another buzzer…nothing. And another.

I gave up and on impulse, walked into the Indian restaurant. It was a long shot, but he said he liked the place and he mentioned the curry often enough that it made an impression.

The owner grinned at the mention of his name, but he hadn’t seen Raine in a few days. I ordered the curry anyway and just as it was ready, an older man carrying a bag of groceries unlatched the door to Raine’s building. I hurried after him, wiping my sweaty palms on my trousers.

Christ, it was hot in here. I paced the narrow ground floor along a row of mailboxes and a corkboard filled with neighborhood advertisements, then pulled out my cell to try again.

Are you home?I typed.

Yes.Three dots. Three more dots.Why?

I’m downstairs.

You’re here?

Yes. Can I see you? Please.