And Jennelle went for one last plea, although she released my wrist.
“At least tell me where you’re going,” she wheedled. “What if your parents call? I have to tell them something.”
I was still for a moment, stumped, because the truth was I wasn’t even sure where I was going. Jared had told me that this club he belonged was throwing a giant party in a couple days. He thought I’d be a star there, that I’d be a perfect fit for this elite “brotherhood” he kept mentioning. But I couldn’t tell Jennelle because it was so far-out, so unbelievable, that it’d only prompt more questions, which answers I didn’t have. So I shook my head again, avoiding her eyes.
“I’m gonna be fine,” I repeated gently, walking to the door, my hand on the knob. “I’ll be totally fine. If my parents call, just tell them I’m studying. It’s finals after all, and they know I study twelve hours a day when the going gets tough. So just tell them that,” I said persuasively.
Jennelle watched my departing figure with helpless eyes. Because what I was saying was true. I’m a nerd and then some, and usually during finals week, I hit the books like a madman, pausing only to eat, sleep, and go to the bathroom. So it was normal for me to disappear during Quiet Period, the seven days leading up to finals. It was normal for me to go AWOL, and my family would understand.
And with a final last wave, I shut the dorm door softly before striding out front to where a black car waited.
“To Mr. White’s place please,” I murmured, sliding in on the leather seats, and the chauffeur nodded his head, tipping his hat.
“Certainly miss,” he replied, and just like that, we were off, barreling through the streets of Manhattan before coming to a stop before a huge, imposing stone building. I gasped. We’d stopped on Fifth Avenue, Jared literally lived across from the Met, Central Park lush and inviting behind the museum. Oh my god, this was beyond luxurious, and my heart started beating furiously. Was I in over my head? I’d thrown all caution to the winds, sure, but I thought I could handle the big man. I thought I was up for the task, with my tempting body and feminine ways.
But tilting my head back, craning my neck to look up at the imposing stone structure, suddenly, I wasn’t so sure anymore. I had Jared in the palm of my hand physically, but it was like playing with fire. Mr. White was a dangerous man, and I’d only seen a small facet of his personality last night. He was a stranger, someone I hadn’t even known twenty-four hours ago, and now here I was, ready to follow him anywhere. Oh god, oh god, what had I done? Doubts rushed over my frame, knees going weak.
But it was too late because the car door was already opening, and I stepped into the darkness of the night, disoriented somewhat. But the bright glare of a streetlight helped me focus, helped me regain my confidence, and I walked into the marble foyer, a pep to my step.
“Hello, I’m here to see Jared White,” I announced with a bright smile at the concierge. “Abigail Williams here to see Mr. White,” I enunciated clearly, and whaddya know, but my newfound confidence worked. An elevator whisked open silently, seemingly by itself, and the bearish man nodded at the lift.
“Certainly miss. Your ride’s here,” he said, indicating the metal doors, and with a sure strides, I entered the gray box. But once my feet hit the carpeting, my show of bravado gave out because this was no normal elevator. The interior was utterly luxurious, done up with mirrors, reflecting my image again and again, with a plush, cream carpet beneath my feet. Holy cow, white carpeting? They had to replace this thing all the time, white gets dirty so fast. Clearly, money was no object and my nerves jangled again as the elevator whisked me up to the sky. Oh god, I was out of my element, I had to be, and doubts began crowding my mind once again.
But once the doors pinged opened, well-being cascaded like warm ooze over my frame. Because Mr. White was here. He has one of those apartments where the elevator opens right onto the living space, and the big man was waiting for me, big body looming in the foyer.
“Hi,” I said breathlessly, shooting him a shy smile. “Long time no see.”
The billionaire merely tilted his head back and chuckled, pressing a kiss to my forehead, that huge form dressed casually in jeans and blue t-shirt. Hell, he looked insanely good, the shirt hugging his broad shoulders, emphasizing those developed pecs, legs long and strong, sheathed in denim. I resisted the urge to jump him, to throw myself at him like a desperate little girl, and instead tried to act normal.