Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“The staff will get it for you, or you get it yourself.”
“The staff will do that?”
“It’s a full-service building, and if you tip enough, the staff will know you and be happy to help.”
“That sounds expensive.”
“Most people living in the penthouse aren’t worried about money.”
The elevator dings, and we exit, turning left to be greeted by two massive arched wooden doors. Nick opens the doors, and I enter, finding myself skipping quickly past the dark wooden floors and balcony to the curved room, and floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the ocean everywhere I look. “The ceilings are eighteen feet high,” Nick says, shutting us inside. “And there’s electronic shading for the windows.”
“It’s incredible.” I look over at him as he steps to my side. “What do you think?”
“The same. Incredible.”
“Do I even want to know how much?”
“I don’t want to tell you.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“Fifteen million.” I gasp, and he snags my hand, walking me to him. “It’s just a number.”
“A huge number.”
“Forget the number,” he says. “We’ve been instructed to go upstairs for your possible studio, but let’s walk the rest of the place first.”
“Nick, that price—”
He cups my face and kisses me. “I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I saw you in your office. You do know the place we have now is almost as expensive, right? And that I’ll sell it?”
“Yes, but—”
“Money doesn’t matter, Faith. A place we love does.” He strokes my hair. “Okay?”
“I can’t say okay.”
“I will, then. I’ve worked my ass off to be in a position to pick a home with the woman I love and not worry about how much it costs.” He kisses my forehead and then joins our hands again. “Let’s explore.”
A few minutes later, we’ve seen five bedrooms, a den, an indoor pool, and an incredible kitchen with a white marble island with black finished cabinets. And finally, an outdoor space that stretches far and wide, with ivy-covered walls and brick steps. We finally head upstairs, and I step into a room with arched stained glass windows at each end and the same floor-to-ceiling windows lining the entire front wall. And above me is a skylight, a view certain to be moon and stars at night.
Nick steps behind me, his hand on my belly, lips at my ear. “What do you think?” he asks. “Could this be your studio?”
“Oh yes. I love this place. I love it so much. There’s inspiration everywhere. The sky and the ocean.”
“And an office already built in. I can work while you paint.”
I rotate to look at him. “Have I told you that I can’t paint when I’m being watched?”
“I watch you all the time.”
“You’re the only one I can let watch me, Nick.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re you. It’s the only answer I have.”
“Do you want to live here with me, Faith?”
“Yes,” I say. “I do, but the impact of this is hitting me. This is big. Buying a new place to be with me is big. Are you—”
“In love with you? Yes. Obsessed with you? Yes. I am. Shamelessly.”
“Obsession is—”
“Dangerous. Yeah. I know. Sign me up for more.” He kisses me. “Let’s go drink champagne on the plane and celebrate our new home and your show.”
“We don’t have a new home yet, and I’m feeling really nervous about my show. Let’s celebrate after it’s done.”
“You’re going to shine, sweetheart. And we’ll have a home by the time we get to the airport. I’m pulling this place off the market.”
He drapes his arm around my shoulder, and we start walking, but I twist around to look at the space one more time. “I really love it.”
His hand settles at my back. “We could get that cat you’ve wanted.”
I turn to face him. “Do you like cats?”
“I had a cat growing up.”
I blanch, surprised at this news. “Really? What was his name?”
“Asshole most of the time. Jerry the rest of the time. He hated my father. I loved him.”
I laugh but sober quickly with a thought that seems important, considering the steps we’re taking. “Do you want kids, Nick?”
His eyes meet mine, sharp, dark edges in his. “Kids break,” he says. “Parents break them. I decided a long time ago I wasn’t going to break any of my own.”
Relief washes over me. “You know my family history. I feel the same.”
He strokes a lock of hair behind my ear, those blue eyes of his softening, warming. “Possibilities, sweetheart. We’ll start with a cat. We’ll see where it—and life—lead us.”
Thirty minutes later, we’re in the lounge area of the plane, champagne-filled flutes in our hands, when the realtor finally calls Nick back. I listen as Nick negotiates, his hand on my leg, touching me—he’s always touching me, as if he is truly obsessed. And I like it.
Five minutes later, he ends the connection and leans over to kiss me. “I made sure it’s ours. We just need to line up a remodeling expert and decide what we want to do with it before we move in.”