Her expression grew wary. "Ah." Apparently whatever went on back there was a sore spot for her. "Sorry, I can't help you."
"Please," I said, trying my best to look desperate, "it was a brooch, a gift from my grandmother before she died. It's really important to me. Do you have a lost and found or something?"
Her expression softened. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude, but I really can't help. Anything back there stays back there."
"But surely you've got the keys?" I asked.
She shook her head. "Only the owners have access to that door. Apparently we're not 'trustworthy' enough," she said, making air quotes. "To tell you the truth, I've never even been back there."
"But what if someone wants to use it?"
She shook her head. "According to my boss it's not for the public. It's just for them. And they only use it every few months. We're not really meant to ask questions, but it seems kind of weird if you ask me."
"Yeah it does." Why on earth would you have a room that lavish if you're only going to use it a few times a year? And why stash it at the back of a place like this? It made no sense.
The girl leaned in conspiratorially. "You want to hear something even weirder?" I nodded. "We're not even allowed to work when they're using it. That's why I've never been back there. They bring in an entirely new staff, all their own people. Who does that?"
I shook my head slowly. "I have no idea."
Her eyes suddenly narrowed. "Hey, shouldn't you know all this already if you were here with them?"
I shrugged. "I'd never been before the other night. Like I said I was just keeping my friend company. I only stayed maybe half an hour."
"Ah, fair enough." A smile bloomed on her face. "So, what was it like back there? I've always wondered."
I felt bad shattering whatever wonderful images she'd conjured in her head, but telling the truth would only make her more inquisitive. She might even get herself into trouble. "Honestly? It was nothing special. A bar, some tables, pretty much like any other corporate function I've been to."
Her shoulders sunk. "Oh. Okay. Well, I'm sorry I couldn't help with your brooch. I could try and ask my boss to speak to the owners if you want..."
"That's okay. I'll see if my friend can talk to them. He's the one who brought me along."
"That might be better, yeah."
"Thanks for your time," I said, turning towards the exit.
"No problem. Bye."
I left the building even more confused than when I'd entered. Everything about the place was slightly off. I only knew one thing for sure; Sebastian and his friends valued their privacy. Perhaps they were simply eccentric in that way that wealthy people sometimes are, but where did those papers on Sebastian's desk fit in?
I knew it was none of my business. Sebastian's secrets were his own, and he didn't owe me any explanations. But nonetheless, I couldn't help but wonder; what on earth had I gotten myself into?
CHAPTER SEVEN
As the evening drew closer, I began to grow excited. As bizarre as the whole situation was, it had been a long time since I'd been on a date, and never with a man as gorgeous as Sebastian.
It wasn't until I finished showering and went to dress that I realised how unprepared I was for the occasion. I'm not normally the sort of girl who spends half the night getting ready, but the shimmering fabrics and exotic cuts on display at his party had left me feeling strangely self-conscious. Suddenly, nothing I owned seemed even remotely nice enough. I had plenty of jackets, blouses and knee length skirts, and a few cocktail dresses for special occasions, but expensive meals with mysterious millionaires were definitely out of my comfort zone.
Half an hour and more than a handful of failed outfits later, I gave up and headed to the lounge to wait. I was wearing a simple black pencil skirt with a white V-neck top I'd dug from some long forgotten corner of my wardrobe. I assumed it was going to be wildly inappropriate for whatever he had planned, but if he didn't like it, that was his problem. I wasn't about to rush out and go shopping for that perfect something just to please him.
At seven thirty sharp, my doorbell rang.
"I'll be right out," I called.
He was waiting for me on the landing outside, leaning against the wall and gazing out into the street. Despite only seeing him yesterday, somehow I seemed to have forgotten how gorgeous he was. Tonight he wore his dark dinner jacket open at the front, his black shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal just a hint of the olive skin and cut chest beneath.
Seeing him standing there looking so effortlessly masculine was like having a bucket of water poured over my head. I froze in place, my tongue involuntarily grazing my lips as I drank in the sight of him. The casual look suited him. It made him look more human. A godlike human, but still.
He smiled when he noticed me, those blazing eyes caressing my body like a soft wind, sending a tingle up my spine.
"You look lovely," he said.
I gave a little spin. "Thank you. It's not Prada, but it does the job."
He laughed. "What makes you think I want Prada? You make too many assumptions, Sophia."
"So if I told you this outfit was thirty bucks at Myer, you wouldn't send me back to change?"
"No. I'd say that most girls would kill to look that good for thirty dollars."
"Well if it's value you're looking for, I might be able to get it down to twenty if you give me a few more minutes to change."
He let out a little growl. "I know I said this dinner was strictly no obligations, but if you keep giving me excuses as to why you should remove your clothes, I won't be held responsible for my actions."
I blushed. I hadn't meant it that way, but once again he'd managed to turn an innocent statement into something much hotter.
Looping his arm through mine, he turned and led me down the stairs to the black limousine that was waiting by the kerb.
He nodded to the man who was standing next to the door. "This is my driver, Joe."
"Evening ma'am." Joe was a friendly looking gentleman of about sixty. He had the weathered face of a once sturdy guy who had been through a lot, and as he moved to open the door for us, I noticed that he walked with a bad limp.