Page 22 of Filthy Uncle To Go

The woman nods professionally.

“Good evening, Mr. Morgan. This is Bethany at the front desk. I have a Jenna Miller here to see you. Is it alright if I send her up?” she asks into the phone. She glances at me and flashes a friendly smile. “Alright, Mr. Morgan. I’ll send her right up.” She hangs up the phone and then points across the lobby. “You can use that private elevator over there. Just press the letterPonce you’re inside. Mr. Morgan is waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” I murmur as I nod.

His penthouse must be fancier than I thought because it even has its own private elevator. I walk across the marble floor to the other side of the lobby and press the button next to it to open the doors. The elevator arrives in no time, and I step inside, still feeling a little nervous. Oh god, what’s going to happen next? Against my own best interests, I’ve missed him all week long, so much that I couldn’t concentrate in any of my classes.

My heart pounds a bit faster each floor the elevator goes up. Finally, it stops, and I take a deep breath as the doors spread wide open. The hallway is long and gracious but there’s only one door on the entire floor. This must be it, and slowly, I walk towards it, preparing myself. Then I knock softly three times, my heart racing.

“Coming,” a deep voice calls out, sounding a bit muffled.

The door clicks and then suddenly, Drake’s standing there. He’s ungodly handsome in a dark cashmere sweater and casual jeans. I want to leap into his arms, but stop myself.

“Hi,” I mutter, looking at the ground.

“Hey, come in,” he greets as he steps aside to let me in.

“Thanks,” I mumble again as I walk inside the lavish penthouse.

“Here, I’ll take your coat for you,” he offers, closing the door behind me. I unzip my coat and hand it to him, and he pauses for a second as he gazes at me. “Wow, you look amazing, sweetheart.”

“Thanks,” I grit out. Why does he sound so at ease? He should be nervous, but instead, the alpha male seems to have the situation totally under his control.

We move inside, and the penthouse takes my breath away. Priceless artwork hangs from the walls, and the lavish living room is furnished with all-white leather sofas, high-tech electronics, and expensive, cognac-colored drapes hanging from the huge floor-to-ceiling windows. Is that the Freedom Tower in the background? OMG, this apartment must have cost a fortune.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” Drake asks, smiling.

“Well, I’m not old enough to legally drink,” I say, still a bit awkward.

“Sorry, I forgot. I feel like such an idiot.”

“Don’t,” I reassure him. “I’ve had a glass or two with my parents before. Besides, my twenty-first birthday is only a few months away, so I’m almost legal. I guess one glass wouldn’t hurt.”

“Sure, coming right up,” he says as he takes my hand in his, giving me goosebumps. Holding on tightly to his hand, I follow him down the long hallway leading into the kitchen.

“This place is amazing,” I add. “Did you decorate it yourself?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Interior design is a hobby of mine, so why not start with my own place?”

“You did a great job because it’s beautiful in here. I don’t think I would ever leave this apartment,” I say, but he shrugs again.

“I’m fortunate to live here, but again, sometimes it’s depressing coming home to a cold, dark, empty apartment. Sure, it’s luxurious, but it’s also lonely,” he explains.

I guess he could be right. Still, I shrug and smile.

“Well, I like it,” I say. He turns toward me and gazes into my eyes, his expression unreadable.

“Actually, sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a family. A wife waiting for me, and a couple of kids running up and down the hallways,” he says in an easy tone

My heart judders. Is that what Drake wants – a wife and kids? I never would’ve guessed since he hasn’t remarried in the last ten years. My cheeks turn red. Would he be interested in a family with me, more specifically?

But then, I lock down on my emotions. It’s way too early to know, and if anything, this is my last time seeing him for a while.Get a grip,the voice in my head warns.Don’t get ahead of yourself.

But then, Drake leads me to the dining room where dinner’s already laid out. Aromas greet my nostrils, and I inhale deeply, which causes my stomach to growl faintly. He chuckles as he pulls my seat out for me, still being a complete gentleman.

“Thank you,” I say as he scoots my chair in.

“You’re welcome. I’m not much of a cook, so I hope you like Chinese,” he says as he opens a bottle of wine. He pours two glasses, handing one to me.