Chapter 3 — Luke

She was fucking homeless!

I couldn’t believe it. It was worse than picking up a stray. At least with a stray, you had a choice of whether to pick it up or not.

This date.

This woman.

She had nowhere to go. Now it all made sense, why she was holding the bag as if her life depended on it, why she had her dress half on because she had been in the middle of changing when the whole bathroom decided to declare World War III on her. Which was another thing I’d only just thought about. Why the hell was she using the bathroom and getting changed at the same time? No wonder everything went crazy on her.

This was a nightmare, one both Hayley and Ed would pay for. This had to be some kind of joke. They wanted to show I was stuck up and now they had proved it by sending me on a date with someone who was homeless! This was why Hayley had been adamant that I go on this date. I’d wondered why it meant so much to her. Ed—I understood—he would do anything for Hayley. We were always pranking each other back in UC Berkeley, and I would always win. This was them trying to get back at me.

Ha! They’d regret it. I would get them back.

I was going to play along with their fucking joke and show them I wasn’t a monster. How I wouldn’t treat anyone so bad, no matter what state they were in or what my expectations of the night were in the beginning. I’d expected a nice meal, maybe some pleasant company and a night in my bed not alone. But I hadn’t even gotten the one thing I’d thought was a guarantee, the meal. The only thing I had was bread and soup, which completely fucked up my diet. I tended to avoid carbs like the plague, but I was so hungry that the last thing on my mind was following my regime.

Fuck. The more I thought about it, the more agitated I became, which meant I had to get home, showered, and to bed. Tomorrow would be a brand-new day, a better one.

“Right, we’re here!” I tossed the driver some bills and opened the door, but she wasn’t getting out of the taxi. I leaned in and found her snoring. Her mouth was wide open and her head back on the chair.

“She’s a goner,” the driver said as I called her name, getting no response.

“Seriously!” I said under my breath. I leaned into the car and tugged at her as I said firmly, “April!”

She jumped and bumped into my head.

“Fuck!”

“Ouch!”

The driver was laughing his ass off as I rubbed my head and backed out of the taxi. April slowly crawled out and slammed the door shut.

“You get in. You shower. You change, and then we’ll talk about the next steps, got it?” I said as she stepped onto the curb.

She nodded her head like an obedient child, but she was sniffing and crying. I knew it couldn’t be from the bump of our heads, so it must have been because I’d told her to take a bath. I couldn’t be the only one who knew she smelled bad because even the taxi driver opened the window as soon as we sat in there.

And I knew it wasn’t from my wet shoes, which pretty much must have been smelling too.

“Good Evening, Mr. Winters. Welcome home,” Steve, the doorman, bowed his head.

I grunted as Steve held the door open for us, smiling at April. I would greet him with a smile or a compliment, but I really wasn’t in the mood.

We sloshed through the lobby and went to the elevator to my penthouse. I only spent weekdays here, but taking her home to Beverly Hills wasn’t an option. I wondered if I should just throw in the towel and tell Hayley and Ed they had won.

Hell no!

I hadn’t built a multi-million-dollar empire by throwing in the towel. No, I had to be strong and not let this night annoy me even more than it already had. I just had to hold my nose and stand as far away from her in the elevator as I could, and I would be able to survive the night.

“Good evening, Mr. Winters. Is there anything…” Elisa said as the elevator doors opened. I was surprised she was still here, I suspected she wanted to say something, but then had stopped when she wasn’t alone.

“This is April…” I wanted to formally introduce her, even if this wasn’t the time of night to do so. “What is your last name?”

“Thomas,” she quivered.

“Okay Elisa, get April Thomas into the guest suite. Give her towels, everything she needs to shower, and clothes. Then order me anything. Thai. French. I don’t care. Or if you’ve cooked, even better.”

Elisa nodded and said, “No, I never cooked. I didn’t expect you back this soon.”

She had a point, and I didn’t mean to make her feel bad.

“Let me hit the shower,” I said as I moved away from them both.

I didn’t wait for a response. I was never so blunt with Elisa, and I wondered why she was still here, especially at this time of night. I never came here on the weekends, but I was dying to eat, shower, and sleep, and not necessarily in that order. She could stay as long as she wanted, but usually when I went to Beverly Hills, she would go home to her family.

I felt like shit, thinking I’d completely forgotten my manners and sensitivity in the space of four hours.

I headed my way back to them, having second thoughts about Elisa doing anything for April when it was supposed to be her night off and wanting to ask her what was going on. Then again, April was a stranger, and I wouldn’t ask Elisa personal questions in front of her. Whatever it was, I would ask when we were alone and find out how she was doing because, by the look of things, she seemed to be happier to see me than I was to see her.

“Yes, right away. Ms. Thomas, follow me.”

I was happy I didn’t have to smell or see April for the next few minutes. I stopped by the bar in the corner of the open-plan living area. I loved this place for the ocean view and the fact it was a lot more compact than my place in Beverly Hills. But it wasn’t home. At times it just felt like an overpriced hotel suite, which only held six people comfortably, at best. The only reason I bought it was to be near work.

I fixed myself a drink and brought it out to the balcony. I could stand out and stare at the view all night I thought as I knocked back my bourbon. It really wasn’t a good idea, seeing as I hadn’t had a decent meal since lunch.

I thought about sitting down and relaxing before hitting the shower, but my feet weren’t feeling great. They were dry now, but they still felt slightly wet, and I really did feel like jumping in the shower. I could have easily sat down on the outdoor sofa on the balcony, enjoying the view and finishing what I’d started at the bar with the guys by getting totally wasted. I shook my head at the idea of it.

I would have another drink and take it to my room. I’d put a couple of rocks in it, and when I came out, it would be cool and waiting for me. Just the way I liked it.