The building had three floors. Kate got out on the second floor and looked around. She spotted the back of Ian’s head as he stood at the reception desk in a glass-walled office to her left. A few moments later, a man approached Ian, shook his hand, and they walked down a short hallway together and disappeared around the corner.
Kate opened the door to the office and sat down in one of the two leather chairs that were tucked into the corner facing each other.
The receptionist glanced over at her. “May I help you?”
“I’m just waiting for someone. Thank you.”
To kill time, Kate logged on to her online dating account. Ian had modified her picture again. Her face was still fat, but in addition to the mustache, he’d given her a mullet and blacked out one of her teeth. She started laughing so hard she snorted. She was so busy crafting a new bio to go along with her profile picture—a bio in which she stated that any man interested in dating her would need to look within to see all the wonderful things she had to offer—that she didn’t notice Ian until he was standing right in front of her.
“Oh, hi,” she said.
“Imagine running into you here.”
“This is quite a coincidence.”
“It’s not a coincidence at all. I knew you were following me.”
“You did not.”
“I spotted you hiding behind the plant when I walked into the bank. Plus I could smell your perfume as soon as I stepped out here.”
“Did you”—she used her fingers to make little air quotes— “appropriate money from this bank?” she whispered.
“Of course not. I do all my work from the Batcave. Believe it or not, I actually bank here. I was just signing some papers.”
Kate had never seen a man look so utterly scrumptious while wearing glasses. There was something about the combination of his hair, his scruff, and the semi-rimless designer frames that made him irresistible. “Are the glasses a disguise? Because I totally knew it was you.”
“The glasses are real. I often suffer from eyestrain since I spend so much time on the computer, and I was up late last night, working.”
“They make you look very smart.” She took a moment to imagine how his scruff would feel rubbing against her skin if he were to kiss her.
“I am smart, but I think you mean devastatingly handsome. More so than normal, that is.”
“You’re so humble.”
“Ready?” He walked to the door and held it open for her.
“Yes.”
“Follow me.” He looked at her and laughed. “That shouldn’t be a problem for you.”
They took the elevator to the basement, and when the doors opened to the parking garage, Kate followed Ian to a row of cars. He stopped beside one and pulled a set of keys from his pocket.
She gasped.
Ian smiled. “It’s a—”
“1964 Shelby Daytona Cobra Coupe.”
“’65. But color me impressed.”
“My brother Chad was obsessed with this car. He used to have a poster of it on his bedroom wall. There were only six built between 1964 and 1965.”
“A bit rare indeed.”
The last authentic Shelby had sold at auction for around seven million. Ian’s was obviously a replica, of which there were quite a few, but it was still a very notable vehicle with a price tag that started in the low six figures. “Helena called it an old blue car.”
He grinned, looking contemplative. “Technically, that is correct.”
Kate could not resist running her hand lightly over the Guardsman Blue paint and the white racing stripes on the hood. The Shelby was unmistakably race-car-like in appearance with its aerodynamic design and unique body style. Chad was going to be so jealous. “For someone who values his privacy, isn’t this a bit ostentatious?”
“How so?”
“Rakishly handsome playboy who makes grand philanthropic gestures and drives a flashy car. Any of this ringing a bell?”
“Rakishly handsome playboy?”
“Well, if the Prada loafer fits. Wouldn’t you fly under the radar more easily in, say, a Ford Focus?” she asked.
“A Ford Focus? You want me to tool around town in a Ford Focus? Jesus, would I still have my balls?”