Page 15 of Beyond Question

A little while later, we’re dropped off in front of an unmarked building. I’m careful to not open her door this time, though I find it difficult to stand back and watch Paige without at the very least offering my hand to help her out of the cab. I have to shove my hands into my pockets to keep myself from offending her.

Adolescence wasn’t just late nights and bad decisions; it was alsocotillion. And with cotillion comes etiquette and thoseantiquated idealsshe spoke of earlier. Gender roles, chivalry, the whole nine yards. Proper decorum is something that has been ingrained in me from a very young age.

Paige glances at our surroundings, then looks at me with a hint of wariness in her eyes.

“Trust me.”

Her eyes narrow. “I did that earlier, remember?”

“Okay, but to be fair,” I say, raising my hands in surrender, “how was I to know you’d be the only woman in New York who isn’t impressed with GILD?”

She does this little snort-chuckle thing that is more adorable than it should be. “Did you know the toilets in that place are gold?”

“So are the urinals.”

God, I really took her to a place with gold urinals, didn’t I?

Anything that feels even remotely exclusive is always going to be successful in a city full of people willing to sell their souls for a seat at the table, which is why GILD is in such high demand.

It is also why, I now realize, Paige was less than impressed.

And I think that might make me like her even more.

Paige lifts her gaze, eyeing the discreet building behind me. “Where are we?”

“Midtown.”

“Yes, Travis, I’m aware.” She side-eyes me and there’s a hint of amusement in her blue eyes. “I meant where are we exactly? What kind of place is this?” She motions toward the building,

“Ah,this,” I say as I pull open the door, “is only the hottest underground pop-up you’ve never heard of.”

She steps past me and I lean close to whisper, “Not an ounce of decadence or gross display of wealth in sight.”

She snorts and I follow her inside.

The lighting is almost too low to see where we’re going, save for rope lighting lining the base of each wall at our feet, creating a narrow hallway forward. I place my hand on Paige’s lower back to keep her near, and she sidles closer to me. As we move down the corridor, the glow from the room up ahead begins to reach us, illuminating our way in a soft, amber glow.

“Whatkindof pop-up?” Paige asks as we travel deeper into the building.

“I hope you like street food.”

When her head whips toward me, the lighting is just barely bright enough to see the mix of surprise and—I hope—interest in her eyes, but before she can comment, we reach the main entrance and a host stand.

“Hi! Welcome! Thank you for joining us tonight.” The hostess beams at us. “Do you have a reservation?” She glances down at a clipboard and adds, “If not, it’s only about a thirty-minute wait, and you can head to the bar—”

“We do,” I say. “Wilder, party of two.”

She scans the list and her smile widens. “Perfect. Alaya will take you two to your table.” She pulls a curtain back, dousing us with bright lights reminiscent of carnival lighting in blinding yellows and reds, and another girl steps forward to greet us, then motions for us to follow her.

“When did you make reservations?” Paige asks as we follow the girl into a massive warehouse, far larger than anyone would have suspected while looking at that unassuming front door.

I just wink and pretend to focus on our surroundings.

“Sneaky,” Paige murmurs.

I’m thankful I had the presence of mind to text my assistant while Paige was in the bathroom at GILD—before I was interrupted—and even more thankful she was able to secure us a table for tonight. Previous debacle notwithstanding, luck was on my side because they’d had a cancellation.

I should have known Paige wouldn’t be impressed by a membership at GILD. It’s a mistake I won’t make twice.

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