Page 62 of Bitter Heat

When they pulled up to the front doors of the estate, she went straight to the kitchen. She downed sleeping medicine and something for her stomach and climbed the stairs to her room. She took the time to shower off the layer of filth on her skin. While she dried her hair, she avoided eye contact with her reflection. She turned off the light, slipped beneath the covers, and cried.

Chapter 11

Five Years Ago

Her trip to London to surprise Roth was an unmitigated disaster. Five hours ago, she slipped out of a taxi near Hyde Park in front of an impressive glass and concrete monstrosity that screamed exclusive. She walked into the most beautiful lobby she had ever seen and got a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach. This place screamed wealth. Surely, Roth wasn’t doing so well that he lived here, did he?

When she told the concierge that she was married to James Roth, she received blank, inquiring glances in return. The concierge would neither confirm nor deny that Roth lived there. They didn’t care that she had come all the way from the States or that she wanted to surprise him. Even showing her ID granted her no special privileges. She had been forced to sit on the couch in front of a massive waterfall as she tried to get in touch with Roth. He hadn’t responded. As hours passed with no word, her anticipation and excitement began to dwindle away.

Something was very wrong about all of this. How could he afford to live here? He hadn’t mentioned that he had recovered financially or that his investments were paying off. He didn’t discuss money at all, and she never brought it up since it was such a sensitive topic between them. Once she graduated, she chose a modest apartment. Roth had fought her on it but had given in when she insisted that it was in a good location and convenient for her. He paid the rent and utilities even though she offered to help. She assumed his infrequent visits to Philadelphia were due to how tight they were financially but if this is where he lived… what the fuck?

Her eyes moved over the luxurious lobby made of glass, gray marble, and gold statues. In the five hours she had been waiting, no one had walked through the lobby. Not. One. Person. It was the strangest thing to watch hundreds of people walk past the impressive structure, but no one entered. She had been hoping to catch Roth on his way in, but that hope had died around hour two. A quick glance at the concierge desk told her they were gearing up to boot her. They had been casting her suspicious looks throughout the day, and it seemed they had lost patience. She wasn’t used to feeling like an impostor. Being a Hennessy ensured that she was given immediate access to everything she desired. Being a Roth meant nothing, apparently. A month ago, she convinced him to give her his address to send a birthday present. Maybe he had given this address while he stayed with a business associate, and she was wasting her time.

When the manager started toward her, she fiddled with her phone to find a hotel. The manager was a few feet away when the elevator binged. The doors opened to reveal Roth looking spiffy, hot, and all kinds of wonderful. She leaped to her feet and ran to him. She was near tears as she threw herself into his arms and wrapped herself around him.

“Thank God,” she breathed. “They wouldn’t tell me if you lived here or not, and I haven’t heard from you.”

“Mr. Roth, do you need assistance?”

She turned her head to see that the manager had followed and was looking extremely ill at ease.

“Assistance?” Roth echoed.

The manager gestured to her, clearly asking Roth if he required assistance in removing her from the premises.

“She’s my wife,” Roth said coldly. “I assume you made her comfortable while she waited for me?”

The manager’s eyes bulged. He glanced at her before he bowed his head and mumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

“L-let me grab her luggage,” the manager said and ran to her abandoned suitcase.

When she looked up, she found Roth wearing a fierce scowl.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“You couldn’t come home to celebrate your birthday, so I thought…” The relief she felt when she saw him began to wane as quickly as it had come. He wasn’t himself. He was angry and distant, and the way he was looking at her made her unwrap herself from him and take a step back.

“This isn’t a good time,” he said shortly.

“But…” She gave him a tentative smile and spread her arms wide. “Aren’t you even a little excited to see me? It’s been three months.”

He stared at her for a long moment before he switched his attention to the manager who came over at a fast trot.

“I can take it from here,” Roth said as he reached for her luggage.

“But Mr. Roth, please allow me to—” the manager groveled.

“You’re dismissed.”

The manager relinquished her luggage and bowed before he backed away slowly. When Roth stalked to the elevator, she stayed where she was. She felt more lost than ever.

He held the door and glared at her. “Get in.”

She entered the elevator and clasped her hands in front of her as he typed in a code. A moment later, the doors closed.

“I was hoping I could catch you as you walked through the lobby,” she said.

“There’s a basement garage for the residents so we don’t have to be seen.”

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