(Jasper's POV)
I stood in the hallway, the paper bag from *Bouchon* heavy in my hand. I had woken up early to drive to Beverly Hills for these pastries. It was a peace offering. I was being the bigger man, forgiving her tantrum.
I tapped my foot against the carpet. I had used a keycard from a friend who owned a penthouse on the top floor to bypass the front desk. It was too early for announcements.
I pressed the doorbell again. The electronic chime echoed inside, but there was no movement. No footsteps. Nothing.
Across the hall, a door opened. Mrs. Gable stepped out, a leash in hand, her poodle yapping at her heels. She stopped when she saw me, her eyes widening behind her glasses.
I ignored her and pressed the button a third time, holding it down longer. My patience was thinning.
"Y
