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)
Sighing, I tightened the strap on my rubber sandals and turned on the water.
I held a hand under the stream, waiting for it to warm, but the water’s temperature dropped with every passing second.
My fingers went numb, begging me to withdraw from the cold.
Before I could call the landlord, the stream slowed to a trickle.
Then it cut off.
What the hell?
“Heads up, floor thirty-three!” a gruff voice shouted from the hall. “We’re doing some maintenance on the pipes today!”
“Really, Mr. Rowen?” I opened the door and glared at him. “Why can’t you ever tell us a week before? Hell, even a day before?”
“Because—” He shrugged. “I can’t predict when the rats are going to chew through the tubing, Miss Sterling. I’m not a fortune teller.”
“Sorry I even mentioned it.”
“You’re forgiven,” he said. “Make sure you don’t have any food boxes on your floor. I’ve already caught four of ’em on the floor below you.”
UGHHHH!
Swallowing a scream, I returned to my room and pulled on a dress.
I couldn’t risk another day without taking a warm shower, so I pulled out my phone and looked over my list of upcoming condo showings.
My next one wasn’t scheduled until Wednesday afternoon, and that was too far away.
I logged into the Hudson Luxury portal and scrolled through the most expensive listings.
These were the places that sat on the market just to remind people like me that there was an entirely different version of life happening above our heads.
Checking the appointments, I saw that my favorite penthouse condo—the one in The Bergman building—was clear.
As usual.
Its floors of imported marble, museum-sized windows, private elevator access, and a view so high above Manhattan that the traffic below seemed imaginary made me feel like I was living in a dream every time I walked through its private doors.
I marked the unit for “private showing” and packed my bag.
An hour later
The Bergman’s lead receptionist nodded at me the moment I stepped into the lobby.
“Morning, Miss.” She smiled. “How may I help you?”
“I’m meeting a realtor here for a private tour.”
“Which suite?”
“It’s one of the first-tier ones,” I lied. “The Forman, I believe.”
“Oh! Well, do you already know which elevator to take?”
“Absolutely.” I nodded. “Thank you so much.”
“Well, if you have extra time while you’re here, ask your realtor to show you the penthouse unit. I have a feeling that one is finally going to sell soon.”
Not at its ridiculous price point.
I smiled anyway. “I’ll ask her to show me. Thank you.”
I walked away and waited for a family to disappear down the hall. Then I boarded one of the private elevators and swiped my access key.
The second the doors opened, my version of New York living disappeared and a far better one welcomed me into its arms.
Sunlight stretched across white marble floors and windows so massive they made the skyline look fake.
I pressed the control panel and watched the shades slowly rise, flooding the condo with even more light. Then I rummaged through the kitchen pantry for brunch snacks.
The tea kettle hissed while I wandered barefoot through the living room, pretending I actually belonged there. My fingers skimmed across vintage gray furniture that cost more than my student loans.
Dante Hudson might’ve been a corporate demon, but the man had immaculate taste.
As I was admiring the view, my phone buzzed with a text.
Claire (Office Manager)
Are you interested in handling a new client/showing in two hours?
It’s an $800k unit above a flower shop. (Your friend Marie passed it on since she’s busy at a closing)
Absolutely. Thank you so much.
After making a cup of tea, I headed toward the master bathroom.
No matter how many times I saw it, the fact that this one room was fifty times larger than my apartment took my breath away.
Like I’d done too many times before, I turned on the heated floors and the soft lighting system that followed me from tile to tile.
The second I stepped behind the glass shower walls and turned the knobs, water burst from every direction at the perfect temperature.
“Ahhhh…” I couldn’t help but moan.
Shutting my eyes, I tilted my head back as the jets cascaded over my skin.
My playlist filtered softly through the built-in speakers while steam wrapped around the room like a warm blanket.
“Yeah…” I sang. “But you know…This life…”
I lathered shampoo through my hair, singing under my breath until suddenly—the music stopped.
The soft lighting vanished, too, replaced by harsh white overhead lights.
“What the…”
I quickly rinsed off, assuming the power system had glitched.
Stepping out of the shower, I reached for the wall panel—and froze.
There, standing in the doorway, was the sexiest man I’d ever seen in my life.
The last man I wanted to see right now.
Dante Hudson?
With his jaw clenched tight and his striking blue eyes staring right at me, he looked even better than he did on the Property Mogul magazine cover.