Her Suited Savior

Chapter 7

Calla Stewart's POV

We ended up pulling into the underground parking lot of a large building downtown. It was not far from the office, but a few stories shorter.

"Do you have a meeting, sir?" I asked, unsure why we were here.

I didn't remember scheduling anything for him at this time and usually, his meetings happened at the office. Maybe he had organized this himself.

"We do, Ms. Stewart," he corrected and got out of the car.

I followed promptly. I didn't want to annoy him, but I couldn't help but ask another question, "Who are we meeting with? I didn't think you had anything scheduled for this time today."

"I scheduled it," he stated.

"Are you sure that I'm needed" I questioned, hoping to get out of it.

"Yes, I'm sure, Ms. Stewart. Now stop asking questions," he answered, ending the conversation there.

He lead me into the lobby of what looked like a high-end apartment building. Sleek leather couches filled the space and a wall of mailboxes stood to the right of the entrance.

In front of the doors was a large black desk with a granite counter top and a man sitting behind it. "Good afternoon Mr. King," he greeted familiarly.

Mr. King must visit here often if the front desk staff knew him. Perhaps he was visiting a friend and just letting me tag along since I was already with him.

Despite the questions I had, I remained quiet since he told me not to ask any more of them.

We got into one of two elevators and Mr. King selected the very top floor. It seemed whoever we were seeing was pretty well off.

The elevator opened into a small space with only one large set of double doors. Clearly, the penthouse took up the entire top floor.

Mr. King pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door. He pushed the door open without a worry and walked right in, throwing his keys on a bench near the entrance. Then, removed his suit jacket and tossed it on the bench as well.

That's when it sunk in. This was his house. I didn't really feel right coming to his personal home. Seeing him at the office was just fine with me.

"Mr. King?" I asked grabbing his attention.

He glanced back at me from within the apartment while I stood outside. He waited for me to speak, "... Are you sure it's okay for me to be here?" I asked timidly.

"What are you talking about, Ms. Stewart?" he looked annoyed.

"Well... I don't want to intrude on you and your home. I can just go back to your car and wait for you," I offered.

"Don't be an idiot, get in here," was his answer, leaving no room for argument.

He immediately turned around and walked further into his home. I followed, closing his door gently behind me.

Mr. King, being the fast walker he was, had turned a corner somewhere and disappeared from my sight, so I was left walking forward cluelessly to look for him.

The front hallway ended up opening into a living space with a very open floorplan. The kitchen was located directly to the right of the hallway. Grey toned, wooden cabinets with white, quartz countertops covered the far right wall. The appliances were all stainless steel. A double oven and a giant two door fridge made Mr. King's kitchen look like it was made for a giant family. 

The island that ran parallel to the cabinets on the wall, held a 6-burner gas stove, and a large stainless steel sink. Six barstools lined the outside of the island, all looking as though they had never been moved.