Hooked #4 (The Hooked Romance Series - Book 4) Read Online Free

sniffed.
    “Yeah. I mean. My dad was totally into Springsteen,” Drew spoke. He turned the car to
the left quickly, screeching the tires. “It was a long time before I could
listen to it without feeling sad. But now, I listen to it thinking that maybe
my dad’s in a better place now, you know?”
    I nodded. I thought about that all the time, really.
About my father, about where he was. It didn’t make sense that he could just up
and leave to another dimension, another place that no one I knew had ever been before.
Death was everything, in that sense. It was everything we couldn’t comprehend.
    Drew parked on the street in front of this grand
brownstone apartment. Somebody rushed to my door and opened it, allowing me to
exit evenly. It appeared to be a valet from the building, an earnest man with
bright eyes. He nodded at me as I walked up onto the sidewalk. “Good evening.”
    I nodded back. Drew walked around to the side and
tossed the keys toward the man, who nodded once more. He got into the car and
spun it slowly into the underground parking garage as Drew placed his hand on
my back and led me up the grand steps to his building.
    “So. You bought this entire place?” I asked as we sauntered up.
    “Oh, yes. I longed to have a big place, you know. To feel like the king of something. When I lived in New
York, I had something like eight hundred square feet. It wasn’t working for
me.”
    “I imagine not,” I murmured, as I thought about my
three-hundred square feet and what I would kill for just an inch more.

 
    CHAPTER
THREE
    He unlocked the door and led me into a great foyer.
The floor was gleaming, even in its age.
    “This used to be a small hotel, actually,” he
explained. “See the front desk?”
    He was right. Next to the entrance was a great front
desk. The mailboxes were still behind the desk, as were all the hanging keys.
“Wow. Are all the rooms still there?” I asked.
    “They sure are. But I’m going to knock them all
down.” He placed a finger over his throat and made a cutting motion. He grinned
crookedly. “Come on. Let’s head to the kitchen. I need a drink. It was a long
day.”
    I nodded, trying not to think about the fact that
his long day meant destroying and re-building the very place my building had
been. “Of course. Let’s grab a drink.”
    I followed him beyond the front desk, toward the
back kitchen. We passed a grand dining hall, where I imagined—once it was fixed
up—Drew would have grand, illustrious parties, like out of a storybook. A large
mirror stood on the other side of the room, reflecting us as we rushed by. I
watched my purple dress glide behind me like a cape.
    The old kitchen had been used for large meals, for a
restaurant, Drew explained. He had brought his great wine collection here, and
he hoped to make a cellar in the back of the kitchen for all the wine, for easy
reaching. I nodded as he parsed through the reds,
searching. He finally chose an aged Merlot. He opened it, allowing it to
breathe for a moment.
    “Do you want to tell me about your day?” he asked.
He seemed almost obtrusive.
    But I quelled my nervous thoughts. “You know. It’s
been a good day.” I slapped my legs lightly. “I had a class today.”
    “Oh, you did? Baby ballerinas?”
    “Actually, older women. It helps with their pain and their weight. They love it. And I think they love
me.”
    “Oh, gosh. I’m sure they do,” Drew said. He began to pour the wine into our glasses. I
watched as it glugged, like a river spewing from the beautiful bottle. “You
know. We should dance together again sometime.”
    I brought the wine to my lips, tasting the dry,
almost-fruity nature of the liquid. I smiled, allowing it to coat my tongue.
“You really think you were that good, dancing with the likes of me?”
    “I mean. I know everyone at the benefit thought we
were really something special,” Drew said, winking at me. Suddenly, he spun
back around and began sauntering out of the