Page 44 of Diego

She smiles. “I haven't said a thing. I simply think the closet space is relevant in this situation.”

“Very tactful.”

“I try.”

There are three additional bedrooms on the other side of the penthouse, enough for guests, but not too many. One could easily become another office or private sitting room, I think, until Blair leads me toward a separate room near the back of the unit instead.

“This is the actual office.”

I walk in and immediately like it.

It is removed from the main living area, large enough for a substantial desk and seating, and has windows overlooking the city without being as exposed as the rest of the apartment.

“There’s additional soundproofing in this room,” Blair says. “The previous owner had it installed because he took a lot of calls from home.”

I glance toward the door. “Can anything be heard outside?”

“Very little.”

That matters.

More than she knows.

Or perhaps exactly as much as she suspects.

I walk farther into the room and look around. “This might be my favorite part.”

“The wine room is going to be offended.”

I stop in my tracks and turn. “There’s a wine room?”

Her grin tells me she deliberately saved that information.

“Come on.”

It is smaller than the cellar at the lake house but far more practical for an apartment. Glass doors separate it from a small bar area off the main living room, with temperature-controlled storage built into two walls and enough space for a serious collection.

“How many bottles?”

“Just over four hundred.”

“That’s respectable.”

“I figured you’d approve.”

“Did you research my drinking habits too?”

“No. I guessed Italian men with money probably like wine.”

I laugh, enticing her to laugh too.

“Finally,” I say. “Something you didn’t spend six hours researching.”

“I like to keep some mystery.”

She slides a bottle out of one of the slots. “The owner left a bottle for you. Château Margaux. Consider it an incentive to remember the penthouse fondly.”

I take it. “That’s quite an incentive.”