A waitress appears a few minutes later, setting a plate down in front of me. The smell alone makes my stomach growl.
“Thank you so much,” I say quickly.
“No problem.” She smiles. “I’m Holly, by the way.”
“Wynter.”
“Cool name. After the season?”
I laugh, nodding. “My dad’s obsessed with Anglo-Saxon history. It goes back to that.”
She grins. “Mine’s less interesting. I was born at Christmas.” We both laugh. “Well, nice to meet you,” she says. “I’ll see you around.”
I’m about to take a bite of my sandwich when Dale appears. He slides into the seat Ray just vacated, flashing a wide smile, his dimples on full display.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs.
I roll my eyes, a small smile tugging at my lips, then take a bite of the sandwich, ignoring him. This guy screams playboy.
His attention shifts suddenly, his head turning towards the main floor. A moment later, raised voices cut through the calm.
I glance over to where Ray stands with another man, a woman lingering just behind him. The man is clearly pissed, his hands flying, voice raised, though I can’t quite make out the words.
“Duty calls,” Dale mutters, already pushing to his feet. He heads over, slipping into the situation like he’s done it a hundred times before.
I watch curiously as I eat. Dale appears to work the tension down with ease. There’s something about the way he speaks, the humour in his tone, the confidence. Within seconds, the man’s shoulders drop, the anger draining away.
The couple leave, and Dale turns back to Ray. They exchange a few quiet words before Ray breaks away and heads back towards me.
“I’ll walk you back to the penthouse,” he says, his tone firm, his expression closing off again.
I place my napkin on the plate and stand, offering a small smile.
“Thanks.”
CHAPTER THREE
RAY
“What was her place like?” Anika asks.
I keep my gaze fixed on the view outside the window. “Like you’d expect,” I say. “A shithole.”
“Why would you expect that?” she asks, amusement threading through her voice.
I glance back at her. “Come on. It’s obvious she’s been struggling. It’s like poverty threw up on her.”
“Ray,” she snaps, sharper this time, “stop being such a dick. She’s a nice girl. And don’t forget where we came from.”
I arch a brow. “And how hard we worked to get here.” I turn back to the window, folding my arms. “She hasn’t been eating properly,” I add after a beat. “There was nothing in her cupboards. Nothing you could make a proper meal from.” Anika goes quiet. “I made sure she ate last night,” I continue, more casually than I feel. “Gave her a card too, for when she’s off.”
“You could give her an advance,” Anika suggests.
I shake my head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. She might not stick around long enough to earn it.”
“Then make sure she does,” Anika says firmly. “I like her, Ray. Keep her.” A slow grin spreads across her face. “Wait . . . did you just say you gave her a card so she eats?”
I open my mouth to reply, but Sebastian bursts into the room.