Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
“Danny, why the fuck aren’t you opening the door for me? I broke one of my fingernails trying to pull that wretched brass knob, and Floofy here almost got her face bashed in by—” The same screeching voice from outside comes to a halt. “What are you doing in here, Calix?”
Grimly, I turn toward the voice. “I’m moving in.”
The woman’s jaw drops. “What unit?”
“Mine.” We both turn to see Harlow standing to the side. She’s wearing a sundress in blue with tiny white flowers. Her feet are encased in white ballet flats, and her hair is tied at her neck. She looks edible. I could gobble her up in one bite.
The other woman judges Harlow with one glance. “Who is she, Danny?”
Danny flushes. Even the best of doormen would find this an awkward situation. I step in. “This is my fiancée, Harlow Sinclair.” I pull Harlow under my arm and tip her face up. “Sorry I’m late, darling.” I give her a quick kiss on the mouth that draws sharp inhales from both her and the other woman. Danny slides away like the smart man that he is. Really hope he gives me a call later.
“I’ve lived at The Grand for three years now, and I know everyone in this building, and there’s never been a Sinclair.”
“My grandmother owned it. I inherited it.”
“Inherited…” The blonde trails off. The cogs in her brain are grinding, and I sense we are not going to like the result they churn out. “That means new ownership, and everyone at the co-op has to vote on the title transfer. It’s a condition of the homeowners’ association agreement.” A not very nice smile spreads across the blonde’s face. “You can count me out. I wouldn’t want my property value to go down because of the wrong people living here.”
I tuck Harlow closer to my side. “Since we’re the right kind of people, you don’t have to worry about that.”
The blonde makes a face and turns back to Danny, shaking one long tip at him. “Isn’t the point of a doorman to protect us from trash? If you aren’t going to do your job right, then find a new one.”
She stomps off and around the corner, where she takes the elevator to her floor.
“Mindy will be a hard nut to crack.” Danny shakes his head. He’s acting like we’re doomed. I can flip one mind on this situation.
“Don’t worry about it.” I say it more for Harlow’s benefit, who looks a little shaken. “Thanks for all your help, Danny. Don’t forget about my job offer.”
“What job offer?” Harlow asks me in the elevator.
“Danny seems like a guy my company would like.”
“You have a company?”
That’s right. I’m pretending I’m broke. “It’s on the rocks, but someone like Danny could help put it back on its feet.” Is that a lie? I do have some companies that need more attention. Plus, there’s the new ad agency we’re acquiring, and that place is a shit show, so it’s not really a complete fabrication. “Your money is helping me keep people employed.”
Maybe that was laying it on too thick, but then she gives me a look like I hung a gold star on the moon. “Wow, that’s pretty cool.”
I tell myself it’s okay because I do take care of my employees. Too well, in some cases. Like I couldn’t fire Trident even if I wanted to. He’d chain himself to the office chair. The elevator stops before I can say anything more embarrassing. Harlow leads me down a lushly carpeted hallway lit with lamps that could have been original to the turn of the century building. It really is a gorgeous place.
She stops at No.19 and sticks an old key into the lock. Inside is a profusion of color and fabrics. The walls are papered with a jungle pattern, and the carpet is floral. The furniture is upholstered in striped velvet, which I didn’t even know was a thing.
Harlow laughs. “Minimalism wasn’t in Gram’s vocabulary.”
“It’s something.” I like it though. It’s different.
“It’s a lot, but it’s home.” She strokes her hand across the green and white striped sofa. “When she was alive, I’d sit here and do my math homework while she did needlepoint.” Harlow points to a frame to the right of the entry. A blue and yellow striped tiger jumps from a red tree branch. Below him, a purple monkey tosses what I think is a coconut in the air. It’s orange, though, so maybe it’s some kind of fruit. “She colored outside the lines.”
Her head dips down to hide her sudden sadness. I cup her head and draw her against my chest. She comes willingly, as if she was my real fiancée. As I hold her, what I’d known when I first saw her hardens into immutable fact. Harlow Sinclair belongs to me.