Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“Owner?” He circled my car, admiring the sleek lines. I loved taking that car out on the Turnpike to open it up and let the horsepower kick in.
“Of the building.”
He glanced up and his eyes narrowed on me. “I thought the building was owned by a real estate corporation.”
“It is. But he’s the head honcho.” I jerked my chin toward my SUV and pulled the fob from my pocket to unlock the door.
When the horn chirped and the parking lights flashed, Tate’s gaze flicked from my Rover to me. “This one’s yours?”
The surprise was thick in his voice but I got it. When he knew me in college, I was practically dirt poor.
I was far from that now.
“Yes. Get in.” I hopped into the driver’s seat and pushed the Start button.
He went around to the passenger side and slipped in beside me, settling into the leather seat. “It’s nice.”
Of course it was. It was practically new. I had planned on taking the Maserati this morning but I didn’t want to risk the electrical system by using it to jump Tate’s vehicle. Plus, I didn’t want Tate to know I owned it. Or the building.
If he was surprised about me owning a new Evoque, he’d most likely be shocked about all the rest.
As Tate belted himself in, I put it into Drive and pushed the button under the rearview mirror to open the garage door. By the time we reached it, it was open enough for me to drive through. I quickly closed it behind me and pulled into the back alley, heading toward the parking garage a half block away.
“I assume your car’s in the garage down here.”
Most of my tenants who owned vehicles parked there since it was close. However, the monthly parking permit wasn’t cheap. The garage was convenient but costly.
“Unfortunately.”
Twenty minutes later, after failing to get his old Toyota Corolla to turn over, we finally gave up. His car was deemed dead and Tate’s hair now looked as if he’d stuck a fork in an electrical outlet.
I could see his desperation and frustration growing by the minute. But no matter how much he willed his car to start, the piece of shit needed a lot more than a simple jump. Truthfully, it needed to be junked and Tate needed to get a more reliable ride.
I had hidden my shock when I first saw what he was driving and now was more than curious about why he was so damn broke.
My guess was it had to be from the divorce and Dahlia’s lawyer taking him to the cleaners but I refused to ask. I didn’t want to feel sorry for him. I actually preferred to not feel anything at all.
“I’ll have to get Triple A to tow it to a shop,” he finally said after pacing and releasing a long string of curses with his hands clamped on his hips.
“It’ll take hours for Triple A to arrive,” I mentioned.
“It’ll also take money I don’t have for repairs.”
That meant he needed to get to work soon since he couldn’t afford to lose his new job.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
As much as I wanted to deny it, I still loved the man as much as I hated him. I didn’t want to see him continue to crash and burn. And right now he was dropping as fast as a meteor about to plummet to Earth.
“Let’s go,” I ordered after rolling up the jumper cables and tossing them behind the driver’s seat.
“Go where?”
“To wherever you work. I’ll give you a ride. You can deal with this,” I bit back what I really wanted to call his ancient Toyota and ended it with, “later. But you need to get to work, right?”
Relief filled his face. He didn’t bother answering me but instead immediately climbed back into my SUV without another word.
As I paid the ridiculous parking fee for the short time I was there, I asked, “Where we going?”
He rattled off an address and I quickly plugged it into my GPS system before pulling out onto the busy street and heading toward I-579 and Veterans Bridge that crossed the Allegheny River.
Since we were going north of the city, I figured he’d been hired at the local television station, WPIX, which was in that direction.
Before I could confirm that, he said, “The owner of River View Heights… You know him well enough for him to let you park down there, too. Does that mean you two are close?”
What was he getting at? “We are.”
“I’m going to ask you something I wish I didn’t need to, but unfortunately, I do. Would you think the owner would mind if I parked down there, too? The monthly parking fee at the garage… It’s...”
I said nothing and let him struggle to get it out. To ask me for a favor he really shouldn’t be asking. Because, again, I was exhausted and feeling extra petty today.