Page 140 of Fifth Avenue Fling

“Bollocks. That’s your Catholic guilt talking. When a billionaire guy wants to give you a green card, you take the green card.”

Someone clears their throat behind me.

Still holding the phone, I turn to see familiar light-blue eyes. It takes me a moment to register… The last time I saw him was that day in Central Park.

The guy I was supposed to go on a date with. Alfred.

He stands watching me with a smirk, his hands in his pockets. My female spidey-senses activate.

What are the chances of him walking past here?

“Orla, I gotta go. Someone I know is here.”

My pulse quickens as he smiles at me, waiting for me to get off the phone. In hindsight, I should have kept Orla on the phone.

Relax, Clodagh, you’re being ridiculous. This isFifth Avenue.

He smiles. “Fancy seeing you here.”

I swallow and give a tight smile in response. “Hi. How are you?”

“Great.”

An uncomfortable silence hangs between us.

“Er, what are you doing in the area?” I finally ask.

He gestures up the steps. “This is where you live, right? I figured I’d come and see how you were doing.”

What the fuck? Who does that?

My spidey-sense radar goes off the charts. I climb another step of the townhouse, my heart pounding. “That’s not cool. How did you find out where I live?”

I think over our text conversations. I told him I worked for Killian.

“What’s the matter?” he says with an irritated edge to his tone. “You seemed interested. Why the change of heart?” He takes a step up the steps to the townhouse. Too close, jackass. “Aren’t you going to let me in?”

“No.” Fear creeps up my spine. This guy is nuts. It’s time to end this conversation. “I’m not interested. I’m seeing someone. And it’s downright creepy to come to my address.”

Do I go in the house or make a mad dash down the street?

He knows I live here, and I’m not sure I could outrun him.

Plus, I can always press the panic button if I’m in the house.

My heart pounds as I quickly move toward the retina scanner at the door.

In the reflection, I make out his face directly behind me.

Jesus Christ, this is actually happening. I’m going to end up in someone’s attic.

The door buzzes open, and I lunge at it.

THIRTY

Killian

Now I understand what “rose-tinted glasses” are. I’ve seen New York a hundred times from a helicopter, but not through Clodagh’s eyes. Her squeals of delight were so distracting I worried we were going to careen into one of the skyscrapers.

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