Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“Thank you,” I said as he held the door open then ushered me over to the middle-aged man sitting at the security desk. It was so weird how polite he was being.
“Larry, this is Ada Rose. She’s going to be staying in apartment 804.”
“Hello, pleased to meet you,” Larry said, dipping his head to me in greeting.
“Hi. Likewise.”
“Come on. I’ll show you upstairs,” Jonathan went on, his hand moving lightly to the small of my back as he guided me to a bank of elevators. As one opened and we stepped inside, I moved away from him, mainly because his touch was making my pulse spike in a strange way. I felt his gaze on my profile as we rose up the floors, but I kept my eyes glued to the doors. As soon as they opened, I shot out and found myself in a spacious hallway at the end of which there were two charcoal grey doors. One was numbered 803 and the other 804. The doors faced each other, so if Jonathan or I were ever leaving at the same time, there was no chance of not bumping into him.
“This is … fancy,” I said as Jonathan stepped past me to unlock 804.
“You haven’t even seen inside yet,” he replied with the ghost of a smile, and he was right. As soon as I stepped into the empty penthouse, I realised just how much fancier things were about to get. It looked brand new. Every item of furniture down to the light fixtures on the walls screamed money, and I was instantly ill at ease. I couldn’t live in a place like this. It was so far outside my comfort zone I didn’t know where to start. I was going to be constantly worried about damaging or breaking things.
“How come it’s furnished if you don’t live here?”
Jonathan shrugged. “I hired an interior designer for my place, and she offered to furnish this apartment at a discount, so I went for it. If I ever want to sell, it’ll need to be staged anyway, so this way, it’s already done.”
“Staged?” I asked, unfamiliar with the term.
“It’s what estate agents do with high-ticket properties. They rent out furniture and then take photographs to upload for potential buyers to view. Furniture helps people imagine living in a place better than if they’re just looking at empty rooms.”
“Ah, I see,” I said, once again aware of the different worlds we lived in. I didn’t think I’d ever not feel like an imposter in this place. Still, it was far superior to going back downstairs to my car. And judging from what I’d seen so far, the bedroom was going to be just as luxurious as the rest of the apartment. I could do with a little luxury after the last few days.
“Is everything okay?” Jonathan questioned when he turned and saw me white knuckling the edge of the kitchen counter.
I swallowed thickly. “Yes, I just … are you sure I shouldn’t just go stay in your mother’s house instead? This place is so … not me.”
Jonathan’s expression shifted, turning inward. “No. I already told you I don’t want anyone in Mam’s house. Her passing is too recent, and I’m—”
“Please, you don’t have to explain. I get it. I just want to make sure my presence here won’t cause any trouble. Your neighbours might turn their noses up when they see the riff raff coming and going,” I said, trying for some humour because mentioning his mother’s house had strung Jonathan tight as a bow.
“You’re not riff raff, Miss Rose—”
“You should call me Ada,” I interrupted. “There’s no need to be so formal.”
Some of his tension seeped away. “Fine, Ada,” he said, and something about the way his voice caressed my name had the hairs on the back of my neck tingling. “If anyone in this building gives you trouble, you let me know. They’ll rue the day, I promise you.”
Wow, okay, the way he was looking at me was kind of intense. My neck tingles increased.
I was struck with the urge to ask him once again why he was suddenly being so nice to me, but he’d already explained why. I guessed his urge to have me close was grief related and not entirely rational. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but I did feel a little less alone knowing I wasn’t the only one in mourning.
“Well,” Jonathan said, clearing his throat. “Let me show you the rest of the place.”
“Sure.”
Five minutes later, he’d finished giving me a tour of the entire penthouse, and I was particularly taken with the palatial balcony that looked out over a nearby park. It was stunning, and I decided I wasn’t going to be all weird and uncomfortable with how fancy it was. I was simply going to enjoy living there for as long as it lasted. I certainly wasn’t likely to find myself in a similar situation again.