Page 66 of Shared By the Highest Bidder

Pamela, the concierge manager, shuffles out of the office behind the guards’ desk. I don’t have a greattrack record with her. She asks me out for a drink every couple of months, and I always turn her down.

She does nothing for me.

“What’s the problem, Ford?”

I also fucking hate that she calls me by my first name like we’re equals.

“My guest, myregisteredguest tried to get into the building, and the doorman stopped her.”

“Did she have ID?” Pamela asks in an icy tone.

“I was never asked to show it,” Bernie’s voice calls out from behind me.

I lean back and put my arm around her. Claiming her.

“I was told the card for her would be ready this afternoon. You personally tell every doorman and porter that I have a guest, and she’s not to be stopped. Got it,Pam?” I heard she hates that nickname.

Pamela drags in a breath, nodding.

I can make her life hell. Although, I have no idea who owns this building. Some foreign conglomerate who doesn’t give a shit, I suspect.

“Problem?” Sylvia Preston strides toward us.

Ha, my leverage. Sylvia’s old money has influence on the city government.

“No problem, Mrs. Preston.” Pamela has figured out I can make her life difficult with surprise inspections and code violations that will draw fines up the ass. And she’s smart enough not to call her Sylvia.

“The new doorman didn’t let my guest insideandinsulted her.”

“Did you insult him back, honey?” Sylvia asks Bernadette.

“No. That’s not my style.”

“Honey, this is New York City. Insulting people isan art.” Sylvia pats me on the shoulder. “Teach this girl of yours some street smarts.”

Girl of mine...

It takes a lot of years to fall into the fabric of this city and be gritty. Bernadette is sweet and angelic. I don’t want her hard and rude.

That’s me. In more ways than one.

“Someone who resorts to name-calling can’t be reasoned with,” Bernadette challenges.

“Get this woman a card.Now, Pamela. Don’t make me call your father,” Sylvia barks.

Pamela goes rigid. “I’ll send one up within an hour, Ford.”

“What?”I grit out.

“M... Mr. Montgomery.”

“And fire that asshole doorman.” Sylvia waves her hands and stalks off for her evening walk in the park.

“Who is that? I love her.” Bernadette squeezes my arm.

“She’s one of the richest women in this city. And I’m sure her threat was real. Pamela wouldn’t have gone rigid like that.”

I steer Bernie to my elevator and inside, I open my arms. “Come here, sugar.”

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