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Authors: Julie Garwood
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into the crown molding at every corner of the fourteen-foot-high ceiling. Somewhere, maybe through the door behind the reception counter,there was a security center where computers recorded every person who came into the building.
“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice surprisingly pleasant and at great odds with his frown.
“Yes, thank you. Could you please call William Harrington’s apartment and tell him that Sophie Summerfield would like to speak to him?”
“He isn’t here,” he said, glancing over her shoulder to the hallway leading to the street.
Sophie couldn’t tell if the impatient man just didn’t want to be bothered or if Harrington really wasn’t home.
“Please call just to be certain.”
“He’s not home.” His voice was no longer pleasant.
His scowl didn’t faze her. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“No.” He looked toward the entrance again.
Was he worried the doorman would catch him being rude? He didn’t look the sort to worry about people’s impressions.
“Would you like to leave a message?”
“No, I think I’ll wait here until Mr. Harrington returns.”
“That’s out of the question.”
“Why?”
“Mr. Harrington won’t be home for a long time. He packed up and left for Europe. He didn’t say when he would return.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when I first—”
“We guard our tenants’ privacy.”
“Is there a way I could get in touch with Mr. Harrington? Do you happen to have his schedule or know where he’s staying in Europe?”
“No, I don’t. And if I did, I couldn’t give that information to you or anyone else. Like I said, we guard out tenants’ privacy.” Without pausing he added, “Would you like me to show you the way out?”
Sophie got the message. She didn’t answer him but simply turned around and left. She thought about telling the doorman howrude the man at the desk was, but what could he do? Surely he already knew the man was rude.
Sophie felt she had gone the extra mile. She was now officially finished with William Harrington.
She rummaged through her purse for cash. She had enough to take a cab back to her apartment, but if she spent it, she’d be short for the rest of the week, and she certainly didn’t want to have to borrow later from the “purse fund” she kept hidden in her closet. She decided walking would do her good. Plus, she could window-shop along the way.
Although it wasn’t yet three o’clock when she walked through the doors of her building, Gil was already waiting. Her condo didn’t have quite the security Harrington’s building had, but it was still safe in Sophie’s opinion. There weren’t cameras at every corner, but there was a doorman and good locks and buzzers that worked.
The doorman knew Gil and had let him wait in the lobby. He was reading
The New York Times
when she walked inside.
Finding bugs wasn’t as easy as it looked in the movies. It took time and expertise. Fortunately, Gil was a pro and knew where to look, but he wasn’t complacent. He always checked and rechecked every possible hiding place. Their routine was simple. She turned on the television, plopped down on the sofa, and stayed there until he gave her the all clear. While he was searching, neither of them spoke.
Gil found three devices this time. Two were what he called standard issue, but he had never seen anything like the third device before. Alec would be interested in seeing this one, he told her.
It was past six by the time Gil finished, and Sophie rushed to dress for her date. He was picking her up at seven. She had promised to attend a charity function with Jeffrey Oakley, a friend and her go-with guy when she wasn’t dating anyone and needed an escort. Jeffrey was as sweet and as bland as a marshmallow, and for years he had been carrying a torch for Regan, but now that she was marriedto Alec, the torch had been passed to Cordie. He professed his love for Cordie on a regular basis, and Sophie listened
“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice surprisingly pleasant and at great odds with his frown.
“Yes, thank you. Could you please call William Harrington’s apartment and tell him that Sophie Summerfield would like to speak to him?”
“He isn’t here,” he said, glancing over her shoulder to the hallway leading to the street.
Sophie couldn’t tell if the impatient man just didn’t want to be bothered or if Harrington really wasn’t home.
“Please call just to be certain.”
“He’s not home.” His voice was no longer pleasant.
His scowl didn’t faze her. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“No.” He looked toward the entrance again.
Was he worried the doorman would catch him being rude? He didn’t look the sort to worry about people’s impressions.
“Would you like to leave a message?”
“No, I think I’ll wait here until Mr. Harrington returns.”
“That’s out of the question.”
“Why?”
“Mr. Harrington won’t be home for a long time. He packed up and left for Europe. He didn’t say when he would return.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when I first—”
“We guard our tenants’ privacy.”
“Is there a way I could get in touch with Mr. Harrington? Do you happen to have his schedule or know where he’s staying in Europe?”
“No, I don’t. And if I did, I couldn’t give that information to you or anyone else. Like I said, we guard out tenants’ privacy.” Without pausing he added, “Would you like me to show you the way out?”
Sophie got the message. She didn’t answer him but simply turned around and left. She thought about telling the doorman howrude the man at the desk was, but what could he do? Surely he already knew the man was rude.
Sophie felt she had gone the extra mile. She was now officially finished with William Harrington.
She rummaged through her purse for cash. She had enough to take a cab back to her apartment, but if she spent it, she’d be short for the rest of the week, and she certainly didn’t want to have to borrow later from the “purse fund” she kept hidden in her closet. She decided walking would do her good. Plus, she could window-shop along the way.
Although it wasn’t yet three o’clock when she walked through the doors of her building, Gil was already waiting. Her condo didn’t have quite the security Harrington’s building had, but it was still safe in Sophie’s opinion. There weren’t cameras at every corner, but there was a doorman and good locks and buzzers that worked.
The doorman knew Gil and had let him wait in the lobby. He was reading
The New York Times
when she walked inside.
Finding bugs wasn’t as easy as it looked in the movies. It took time and expertise. Fortunately, Gil was a pro and knew where to look, but he wasn’t complacent. He always checked and rechecked every possible hiding place. Their routine was simple. She turned on the television, plopped down on the sofa, and stayed there until he gave her the all clear. While he was searching, neither of them spoke.
Gil found three devices this time. Two were what he called standard issue, but he had never seen anything like the third device before. Alec would be interested in seeing this one, he told her.
It was past six by the time Gil finished, and Sophie rushed to dress for her date. He was picking her up at seven. She had promised to attend a charity function with Jeffrey Oakley, a friend and her go-with guy when she wasn’t dating anyone and needed an escort. Jeffrey was as sweet and as bland as a marshmallow, and for years he had been carrying a torch for Regan, but now that she was marriedto Alec, the torch had been passed to Cordie. He professed his love for Cordie on a regular basis, and Sophie listened
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