Page 8

Five years before Derrick Bell’s murder

The elevator’s doors opened, and Noelle realized it had stopped inside the penthouse foyer.

“Holy shit.” Savannah grabbed Noelle’s arm as she gawked at the huge chandelier and fresh floral arrangements.

Agreed.

Sounds of a dozen conversations and light music reached them. A waiter with a tray of appetizers darted across the foyer without a glance for the women.

Which was an uncommon occurrence. Both tall and attractive, Savannah and Noelle captured attention wherever they went as a pair.

Tonight was no exception. Savannah had already said three times how good they looked together.

The brunette and the blonde. One in red and the other in black. Heels. Makeup. Blowouts.

Noelle and Savannah moved down the marble-lined hall, and the music grew louder. Savannah gave her a light punch on her bicep. “Glad I made you come?”

“Definitely. Sounds like it will be a good party.”

“If you feel uncomfortable, just grab a tray and take drink orders. You’ll feel more at home,” Savannah said with a big grin.

Noelle snorted.

Savannah was her closest friend and a dining room manager where Noelle worked. Rex Duggan, the restaurant owner, had invited his management staff to a party at his home on top of one of Sacramento’s luxury hotels, and Savannah had begged Noelle to be her plus-one.

She hadn’t needed to beg; Noelle was immediately on board. Rex Duggan was a colorful celebrity in the restaurant world. A former chef, he owned four restaurants in Sacramento and another in San Francisco. That one had been crowned with two Michelin stars.

Noelle had spoken with Rex a number of times over the years at the bar.

He’d said one of the reasons he always remembered her was that she was six inches taller than he—and that was without heels.

He always had a joke to tell and offered a friendly hand to shake.

He was impossible not to like. Everyone got his personal attention during his impromptu visits, but Noelle knew he was simultaneously watching the food, patrons, and staff, all while evaluating cleanliness.

“Let’s find a drink and a bite to eat,” said Savannah, sniffing the air as a hint of sesame oil and ginger reached them. “I want to see what a food star like Rex serves at a party.”

A moment later they paused at the entry to a huge room with floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a 270-degree view of the city’s night skyline.

The space was packed with people in small groups talking, laughing, and drinking.

Noelle spotted a few other employees and several regulars from her bar.

Most of whom she knew were heavy hitters in the political world.

It was a crush; everyone was dressed to impress.

Her little black dress with the low back had been the right choice.

Jewelry sparkled on the attendees, an echo of the night lights of the city outside.

The city’s elite were present.

A waiter stopped and offered a tray of drinks.

Noelle recognized Rex’s signature gin and tonic.

The women each took one, thanked the waiter, and then clinked their glasses.

“Here’s to an awesome evening,” said Noelle.

Excitement was building in her chest. She’d needed a night out where she wasn’t catering to everyone’s whims.

“Isn’t that San Francisco’s mayor?” Savannah said loudly in Noelle’s ear.

Noelle followed her gaze. “Yep.” She’d waited on the man a few times.

He liked small-batch tequilas. “Let’s mingle.

” Savannah nodded and made a beeline for a group of women Noelle didn’t recognize, so she scanned the room and decided to head outdoors.

Several of the floor-to-ceiling windows were actually sliding doors that opened an entire wall to the huge terrace.

She stepped outside. The dry night air was pleasantly warm from the day’s summer heat.

Rex—or his designer—had created a half dozen seating areas with small tables and large overstuffed chairs.

Tall umbrellas dotted the space but were tightly closed, ready to provide tomorrow’s necessary shade against the season’s intense sun.

There was a wide roof, but it covered only half of the terrace.

She spotted misters and heaters—the outdoor patio was usable in all weather.

Neither were needed in tonight’s comfortable evening temperature.

Noelle leaned against the rail, looking out over the city, the beauty nearly painful.

What would it be like to live up here?

She’d never leave the terrace. Someone would have to bring her food and set up an outdoor shower.

Noelle sighed and turned to search out someone to chat with.

Her restaurant’s assistant general manager caught her eye and gave a jerk of his head to indicate she should join his group.

She had taken two steps in his direction when she heard her name and spotted Rex Duggan headed her way.

She’d found Rex genuinely likable. He was outgoing and chatty and had a tendency to name-drop, but he didn’t do it in a bragging way.

He actually knew and spent time with the people he mentioned; they were part of his broad circle of acquaintances.

Other people whispered that he was a snob; Noelle hadn’t found that at all.

He was a people person and never said an unkind word about anyone.

His looks reminded her of Danny DeVito’s a bit, but he wasn’t that short.

And his eyeglasses frames were always bright red or blue.

“Damn, you look amazing, Noelle,” he said as he squeezed her hand, looking up at her. “Like a silent movie star. Elegant and polished.”

“Your home is beautiful,” she told him. “The view makes me want to cry.”

His eyes lit up. “That’s exactly what it does to me.” Still holding her hand, he glanced around with a frown. “I want to introduce you to someone. Don’t see him, though. You’re still single, right?”

Not another fix-up.

She swore every employee at the restaurant had tried. “I am, but—”

“Either you are or you’re not.”

“I am.” She grimaced.

“Stay right here. I’ll be back.” Rex vanished into the crowd.

She watched him leave, torn between wanting to do as he asked and wanting to blend into the crowd. She guiltily chose the crowd.

He’s the host. He’ll be waylaid by twenty other people.

She spent the next hour socializing and snacking.

Everyone wanted to talk about the latest education bill and the big-name movie star who’d been caught with the wife of the president of a South American country.

Others talked books—one of her favorite topics—or critiqued the Broadway musical that’d been in town for two weeks.

She smiled and nodded. Books she’d spend money on; Broadway musicals were out of her budget.

A perk of bartending near the capitol building was that she was up to date on every bit of political news and could intelligently discuss most current events.

She rarely voiced her opinion, a habit she’d developed to protect her tips, but she was skilled at asking questions and digging deeper into the issues.

After one woman relentlessly poked and prodded for her opinion of the recent minimum wage bill—Noelle knew she was just looking for an argument—Noelle excused herself and slipped back out to the terrace, needing a moment of silence.

The crowd had thinned a bit, but there was no indication of the party winding down soon.

She asked a server for a glass of Perrier and retreated to the far end of the patio, where it narrowed to a point, creating a snug area between the railing and the penthouse wall.

A light, pleasant buzz from the alcohol filled her limbs.

She sipped her water and wondered what Savannah was doing.

The last Noelle had seen her, Savannah had been trying on the shoes of a local TV anchor, both women deep in conversation about the spiked heels.

The red soles of the anchor’s shoes had tempted Noelle to join in, but shoe swapping felt too much like a middle school activity.

Red soles. Someday.

“Jessica loves to start an argument.”

Noelle turned to the male speaker, instantly in agreement about the woman who’d pressured her about the minimum wage bill.

Mr. Stoli.

“You saw that?” Noelle asked, meeting his brown gaze, realizing she had to look up an inch or two to do so. A rare occurrence.

“And heard it. I was talking to someone behind you. You were the third person I’d heard her try to argue with.” His amused smile touched his eyes. “You deflected best.”

“Thank you. Lots of practice.”

“She was very put out when you walked away.”

“I’m not here for her entertainment.” Her gaze wandered over his face. He had something compelling that she couldn’t pinpoint and that drew her to him. Right now, he was the best thing she’d seen all night. And that included the red soles.

His smile was slightly crooked, an endearing sight.

He had a five-o’clock shadow and didn’t wear a tie—which she’d never seen him without.

Instead, his crisp white shirt made a nice contrast with the dark-gray suit.

He wore suits well, clearly comfortable in them, almost as if he’d been born to wear them.

She’d never seen him in anything else, but she suspected he’d be just as cool and confident in shorts and a T-shirt.

His glass held a clear, carbonated liquid over ice.

“Not vodka,” she stated, gesturing at his glass.

“Perrier.”

“Same.” She held his gaze and smiled, as if they were sharing a big secret.

The moment stretched, and her soft buzz went to her head, a sensation of lightness and wonder.

An unspoken attraction filled the space between them.

Noelle wasn’t surprised and realized that instinct had made her keep her distance at work because deep down she’d known this would happen.

“You know Rex?” she asked.

“Family friend. My dad did some work for him.”

She’d later learn that the “work” had been the construction and design of two of Rex’s restaurants and the hotel under the penthouse where they were currently standing.

“Do you like pie?” he asked, his gaze searching hers.

“Who doesn’t?”

“I know where to get the best.”

“Rick’s,” she said at the same time as he. Her attraction grew, warmth spreading through her chest and arms.

Same drink. Same pie place. What else?

“Do you want to leave?” he asked, his words so quiet she had to lean closer. She smelled a subtle aftershave that made her crave ... something.

She had always been the responsible one. Looking out for her younger sisters. Keeping an eye on her great-aunt. Working long hours. Getting perfect grades.

Suddenly she wanted to fly in the warm, soft breeze of the night. Step into the unknown and enjoy the heady rush.

With him.

“Yes.” She glanced over his shoulder and spotted Savannah, back in her own shoes. “Let me tell my friend.”

He nodded and stepped back. She’d been so caught up in the moment, she hadn’t noticed his position had essentially pinned her in the corner of the terrace. She strode to Savannah.

“Is that the vodka guy?” Savannah squeaked as Noelle approached, staring past her.

“Shhh. Yes. We’re going out for a bite to eat.”

“Uh-huh,” Savannah said, twisting her lips. “He looks very hungry. You do too.” She innocently blinked several times. “I take it you don’t need a ride home.”

“I don’t think so. If I do, I’ll call a cab.”

Savannah gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, gin heavy on her breath. “Enjoy.”

He was two yards away as she turned from Savannah, his gaze instantly locking with hers.

He smiled, and she was smitten again. He held out a hand and she set hers in it, his grip smooth and secure.

Without a word, he led her away, weaving among the groups of socializers.

Two men tried to stop him to talk, but he shook his head and kept moving.

Their eyes went to Noelle, and she saw understanding dawn.

She didn’t care.

As they waited in the foyer for the elevator, he held her gaze.

Neither spoke.

The door slid open and he led her inside. As the door closed, he faced her and pressed her against the wall and kissed her.

Adrenaline and something primal shot through her veins as she returned the kiss, sinking her nails into his hair and drawing them along his scalp.

He gasped deep in his throat and deepened the kiss.

The elevator dropped quickly, but Noelle knew that wasn’t what created the butterflies in her stomach.

Just before the door slid open in the building’s lobby, he pulled back and she felt the loss keenly.

His eyes reflected that feeling. And a promise of more.