432 Park Avenue (Patreon)

She frowned when they pulled up to 432 Park Avenue.

“I said I wanted to go to,” she began, but Roth interrupted her.

“I need to grab something. It’s urgent.”

“Oh.” Contrite, because she knew she was the cause of anything being urgent, she waved a hand. “I’ll wait here.”

He paused with his hand on the door handle. “Do you want to grab anything?”

She instinctively recoiled. “No.” The thought of going into his penthouse was only slightly less traumatizing than going to Tuxedo Park.

When he continued to stare at her, she fidgeted.

“Can you hold everything until I get a place and have you send it there?”

More silence. Maybe he didn’t want a reminder of her either and wanted to move on ASAP.

“Never mind. You can send it to Tuxedo Park.” When he made no move to get out of the car, she arched a brow. “I thought you said it was urgent.”

“You have the opportunity to grab your laptop, notebooks, and a bag of clothes so you’re more comfortable,” he said.

She bit her lip. The only winter clothes she had was what she packed for Colorado. The other two suitcases were filled with swimsuits and resort wear. Of course, she could easily have clothes delivered to her hotel room, but there were some warm pieces she’d love to have on hand.

“Can you grab…” she began, but her voice died at the look on his face.

“Does this place hold such horrible memories, you can’t bear to enter the building?”

“No, I just…”

“You just what?” Roth asked, ignoring the cars that maneuvered around them and the puzzled valets standing on the sidewalk, obeying Mo’s signal for them to keep their distance.

As the silence stretched, Roth looked down at his hands.

“What would you like me to grab for you?”

His voice was gruff and even though all she could see was his profile, the pain on his face for once, was clear to see.

“Would you like me to grab some of your trinkets on your desk? One of those snow globes may help your muse,” he said quietly.

As an image of the despondent mermaid she picked up in Copenhagen popped into her mind, she undid her seatbelt. “I’ll come with you. I’ll just toss a few things in a bag.”

**This is a raw draft of Bitter Sins. Please do not share or distribute.

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