Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 32776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
“You can wash your hands when we get off.” I paused. “I thought you said you used to be poor.”
“I was,” he said. “Too poor to buy a metro card. I begged at all the metro stations for change, though.”
“Okay. Whose rags-to-riches sob story did you steal?”
“It’s mine.” He looked at me. “I’m forty-six years old… I snuck on the buses to get around when I was a kid. I went from those to cabs, to what I have now.”
“Oh.”
That was the first thing he’d ever said that made him sound remotely human.
“You don’t believe I used to be broke, do you, Chloe?” He inched closer.
“Not at all,” I said. “But I’ll play along until you admit the truth.”
“I’ll prove it another day,” he said. “In the meantime, don’t move from that spot until we get to where we need to be.”
“Why?”
“Because for some reason, you seem to think a goddamn skirt is equivalent to the pantsuits I begged you to wear, and I don’t need anyone else seeing the effect it has on me…”
I blushed. “Sorry.”
“Not as sorry as you’ll be later…”
THE CEO
DANTE
The Avon Complex was the first apartment building I’d ever bought in this city.
With its twenty floors, trailing English ivies that clung to its bricks, and Juliet balconies that overlooked the street, it was once one of my mother’s favorite places to stop and admire.
Before today, I’d never been able to make myself come back and see it.
Then again, from the way the trailing ivies were half-dead and the balconies’ iron was rusted, perhaps my resistance was for the best.
Making sure I wasn’t imagining things, I glanced at how this place looked online. Then I looked up at it again.
Hmmm.
I held the door open for Chloe and headed straight for the leasing office.
Just like it claimed online, the doorplate announced the manager as a “Mr. Daniel Kline.”
I didn’t bother knocking.
This place belongs to me…
“We’re not open right now.” The woman behind the desk didn’t look up from her salad as I entered. “Come back in an hour.”
“No, right now will have to do,” I said. “Where’s Mr. Kline?”
“He’s busy.” She stuffed a tomato into her mouth. “Come back later, or make an appointment if you want to—” She finally looked up, and her eyes met mine.
Jumping from her chair, she slammed her hand on a golden button.
Within seconds, a salt-and-pepper-haired man emerged from the back office.
“Oh my god, it’s Mr. Dante Hudson—in the flesh!” He forced a smile. “It’s an absolute honor managing one of your properties, sir.”
It doesn’t look like it. “Good to hear that.”
“I uh—” He ran a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t expecting you to drop by.”
“I’m sure,” I said. “I need you to let me into a few of the units.”
“I’ll happily show you any of our showrooms.” He waved a hand. “We just finished cleaning them.”
“No, I’d rather see the ones people are actually living in.”
“Oh. Well, we can’t barge in without notice while the tenants are here. You know, laws and stuff.”
“I don’t think they’ll mind.”
“I do.” He swallowed. “If you give me a chance to call a few of the best ones and see if it’s okay, we can go from there.”
“Okay.” I walked right past him and to the elevators.
Chloe followed, and Mr. Kline rushed ahead of us.
“Please give me a few minutes,” he said. “It’s not really the best day for an impromptu showing.”
I hit the up button, and the doors glided open.
I tugged Chloe inside with me, and Mr. Kline looked torn between joining us and staying behind.
He reluctantly stepped aboard as I chose the top floor.
“I could’ve sworn my engineer told you to get glass panels placed on these elevator doors years ago.” I looked at Mr. Kline. “And it smells like piss in here… Why?”
“I can’t control when people want to behave like animals, sir,” he said. “But you know—some people have pets, so maybe that’s it?”
“I sent every property a memo about installing a pet-friendly elevator… Is the one we’re on for pets?”
Mr. Kline said nothing.
“Mr. Kline?” I pressed him again.
He still said nothing.
The elevator doors opened, and the unmistakable smell of mildew smacked me in the face.
I let out a sigh and walked over to the hallway window. There were cracks in the edge of the glass, trapping moisture, and God knows how much bacteria and mold were under here.
Not saying a word, I knocked on Unit 7B.
No answer.
I walked over to 7C, but the door to 7B slowly opened.
“Are you here to fix my toilet?” a woman asked me. “If so, just give me and my kids twenty minutes to get out.”
“No, I’m not here to fix your toilet.” I tried to keep my voice flat. “What’s wrong with it?”
“I mean, it’s been broken for like a month.” She crossed her arms. “I’m tired of peeing in bottles and asking my neighbor to let us poo in hers.”