Caleb (The Unseen Series Book 1) Read Free Page B

here? Do you need money?” I ask acerbically. I watch her mouth fall open as I remove my checkbook from the drawer of my desk. “You’ll need a deposit and one months rent upfront, so what’s that, five thousand dollars?”
    Her mouth is still wide open and my thoughts turn to ones of her on her knees. I shake my head before blood rushes to my cheeks and not just between my legs.
    “I don’t want your money,” she gasps and then shakes her own head. “Who the hell pays that much a month for rent?”
    “How much do you pay now?” I ask.
    “You’re my landlord, you should know.”
    “I’ve been extremely busy this last couple of weeks, I haven’t had time to go over everything,” I reply defensively.
    “We are all busy, Mr. Slate.”
    “Maybe but I had to fly to England for a wedding and then a few days later, I had to fly to New York for an emergency,” I explain, though I don’t know why.
    “You mean the emergency where you and your billionaire friend Edward Day, went running around Central Park on Monday. The same Monday you cancelled a meeting with me because of this “ emergency” , which you then had to cancel yesterday because you got back late,” she preaches. “Tell me Mr. Slate, did you drink too much the night before?”
    “Miss Tanner,” I address her firmly and professionally. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    “So the Washington Post photoshopped you into those pictures then?” She smirks, producing the newspaper in question.
    “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you,” I respond and take the paper from her. “A picture is worth a thousand words,” I muse quietly. “If you look carefully at these pictures, you’ll clearly see I’m not enjoying myself.”
    “I cancelled two overtime shifts to meet with you—money I could have done with but why would you care? You have all your money and no worries, while the rest of us try to survive month to month.”
    “Miss Tanner, my personal life is none of your business. I will compensate you for your missed shifts, if that’s what you want.”
    “It always comes down to money with you. I don’t want your money. I want to be treated with the same respect that you would treat that billionaire friend of yours, and not like an old beggar woman.” The sound of her voice shaking toward the end of her rant causes my eyes to lock onto hers. She’s blinking fast, but I can see the watery glow just under her lashes.
    “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you,” I say and then clap my hands together. “I’m hungry, are you able to join me for something to eat and maybe we could talk some more?”
    “I can’t. Thank you for the offer, but I have to get home,” she says a little disappointedly.
    “I would really like to talk to you some more. We’ll be no longer than an hour.” I try to convince her, I even draw a cross over my heart with my finger, which makes her chuckle.
    She considers this for a minute. “We have to be quick, and I have to check with someone first.” I nod, yet I can’t help feeling a stab of jealously that she has a boyfriend waiting at home for her.
    “Do you want to use the office phone?” I ask for reasons I can’t explain.
    “That would be fantastic, thank you.” She smiles and moves toward the desk chair, picking up the receiver and dialing. “Hello?”
    I try not to listen to her private conversation because she is trying to keep her voice quiet, though I did catch the last part.
    “Thank you, I owe you one. Love you, bye,” she says, hangs up and smiles sweetly at me. “We have an hour.”
    “Where would you like to go?” I ask.
    “You decide,” she says and begins to walk out the door.
    “Pizza? I know a lovely little Italian place just around the corner,” I suggest.
    “I’m cool with that. Lead the way Mr. Slate.” She grins.
    “Please, call me Caleb,” I say and she nods. Say my name, I want to hear it come from your lips.
    As we get into the elevator I get closer to her and