The Casanova (The Miles High Club #3) by T.L. Swan

My email pings again and I open it.

Miss Landon.

Thank you.

Have a safe trip home this afternoon, don’t walk in front of a bus or anything.

I smile to myself. Stupid twat . . . you wish.

I stand and watch Rebecca run around the apartment like a chicken—Daniel is arriving at any moment. And boy oh boy, is Rebecca in overdrive.

“Don’t just stand there,” she snaps.

“What do you want me to do?” I look around the spotless apartment. “There is literally nothing left to clean. What is it with you and this guy?” I ask. “You’re hell-bent on impressing him. The fact that he’s gorgeous wouldn’t have anything to do with it, would it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snaps again. “I have a boyfriend, remember?”

“Oh, I remember, but do you?”

“Shut up,” she huffs.

The doorbell sounds and our eyes meet. “He’s here,” she whispers.

“Well.” I gesture to the front door. “Go and let him in.”

Rebecca nearly runs to the front door and opens it in a rush. “Hi.” She smiles.

It’s really hard not to roll my eyes.

“Hi.” He smiles as he looks between us. He’s got two big suitcases with him, he’s tall and blond, and I have to admit, he really is quite handsome. I don’t remember him being this good-looking when he came around to meet us before. No wonder Beck is breaking her back to impress him. “Here, let me help you with those,” I offer.

Beck looks out onto the street. “Do you have any more things you want help with bringing in?”

“Thanks, I’ve just got another two suitcases in my car. I can get them.”

“You remember Kate?” She gestures to me.

Daniel’s eyes come to me. “Yes, of course I do. Nice to see you again, Kate.”

I give an awkward smile—I’m always so weird in social situations. Until I get to know someone I’m really not friendly at all. Not by choice of course, shyness is a curse.

“This is your bedroom through here.” Rebecca plays tour guide, leads him through and shows him his room. “And this is my bedroom. Come upstairs and I’ll show you Kate’s bedroom,” she offers.

I follow them as she shows him around the apartment. My eyes roam up and down Daniel: he’s wearing black trousers, a black knitted sweater, pointy shoes, and a bomber jacket in camo green. His clothes are expensive and trendy; he really does look the part of the personal stylist.

“When do you start work?” I ask as I try and make conversation.

“I have four clients next week, and I have to find about fifty more as soon as possible,” he says.

I smile.

“But seriously, I start with Harrods next week, I’m going to be one of their in-house shoppers.”

Oh, what a hellish job—shopping is my living nightmare. Unsure what to say and feeling awkward, I hunch my shoulders. “I’ve never met a personal shopper before.”

Daniel smiles. “There aren’t too many of us.”

I take a suitcase from him and glance down at it: Louis Vuitton. Jeez . . . I think the suitcase is worth more than my car. He disappears down the front steps to the street and I peer out after him: he has a black new-model Audi. Why the hell is he sharing an apartment with two other people if he has all this expensive stuff?

Surely he would want to live alone?

I know I would.

He grabs another two suitcases from his car and once again they are beautiful black leather; I eye them suspiciously as he walks back up the steps. I wish I had good taste like this. I wouldn’t know what to buy even if I did have the money.

Daniel wheels his suitcases into his bedroom and looks between us as he puts his hands on his hips. “Please tell me that you girls are taking me out tonight. There’s no better way to get to know each other than over a few drinks.”

Rebecca’s eyes nearly pop from her head in excitement. “That sounds awesome.” She glances over to me. “Doesn’t it, Kate?”

Not really.

A fake smile. “Sure does.”

“Shall we go?” he asks.

“Now?” I frown. “You don’t want to put anything away first?”

“No, I’m good, it will still be there tomorrow and I have nothing to do until next week so it will give me a mission.”

An hour later, we sit at the bar in a restaurant, wine firmly in hand.