“I can’t afford Manhattan. Queens, maybe.” The waiter comes back with a new bottle of wine and clears our oyster plates.
“There are affordable apartments in Manhattan, you know.”
“On your salary, maybe. Not on mine,” I retort. Jeez, how can he think that I can afford anything in Manhattan besides a small closet? Even that would be too expensive.
“I am more than willing to help you.” His support warms my heart.
We eat in a calm silence. The patrons that were sitting at the bar have all left. All you can hear are the waves from the bay hitting the sides of the bulkhead. I sit and think about all he’s said. I like the idea of living close to him. It will give me a chance to get to know him better while still being close to home. On the other hand, if things don’t work out, I’ll be far from my family and friends. I need to settle on a happy medium and look for places in Nassau. He looks over at me, watching me think. I’m glad he can’t read minds because mine is all over the place.
“I think Nassau is a better bet. I’ll be close to Mom and Brenda,” I say. He starts to frown but recovers. I can see he’s not happy with my choice.
“Okay, but western Nassau. I don’t want you driving too far.”
“Wherever I can find a decent sized apartment for less than a million dollars a month,” I retort. He smiles at me as he places his last bite of steak in his mouth. That mouth.
The waiter comes by to clear our plates. Dinner was fantastic, and for once, I didn’t overstuff myself. Chase reaches over and touches my hand. “Do you want dessert?” he asks, his eyes blazing. I don’t think he’s talking about anything on the menu. Right on cue, I blush.
“I don’t think so. But I would love to sit and relax with my glass of wine.”
There are faux wicker couches and chairs with cushions by the door that leads back into the restaurant. I suggest to Chase that we go relax up there. He nods and stands to pull out my chair. He motions to the waiter.
“We’ll be finishing our wine over there.” He motions with his head to where the couches are. “Please bring me the check.” The waiter nods and scurries up the steps into the restaurant.
I take my glass and head up the steps, Chase right behind me with the bottle. He leaves his glass on the table and opts for the Pellegrino instead. I flop down on one of the many couches, and he sits right beside me. He places his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. My cheek is resting on his chest. He smells so good. This feels so good. I sigh and snuggle in closer. He kisses the top of my head, and I can almost feel him smiling. The waiter places the check on the adjacent table and disappears. I am so relaxed. I can sit like this all night.
“I love this place,” he breathes. “I would have never been inclined to come here. Besides the Hampton’s, I don’t normally travel this far east.”
“It’s not always this slow. As a matter of fact, it’s often much busier.”
“It’s like we’re in our own little bubble. I like this.” Chase says stroking my hair.
“I like to come here on Friday nights for happy hour and the live music.”
“That could be fun. We’ll have to do that.”
“I work the closing shift on Friday’s. I wouldn’t get out in time.”
“Are you going to keep working at Anthony’s?” he asks, his expression impassive.
“I don’t know. It depends on how many hours I’ll be putting in with NOAA. Probably not,” I answer truthfully.
“Good,” he states. He looks relieved. I’m not sure I can finagle working two jobs and trying to find time to see him. The job with NOAA will pay the bills, although, the thrill of bartending leaves me wondering if I want to stop. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. He pulls me toward him and nuzzles my neck.
“I’d like to help you look for an apartment as soon as possible. You’ll need to make sure you find one before you start working,” he murmurs softly. His voice reverberates through my skin, making me tingle. Again, I can feel him smiling.
“Okay,” I say in agreement. Right now, I would do anything for this man. He kisses my neck and moves up toward my ear, nipping as he goes. I try to hold on to my self-control. If we weren’t sitting in this restaurant, I’d have him on the couch right now. I can feel my resolve weakening. At this moment, I really wish I had my own place. He stands before I realize he’s gotten up.
I see him hand over his credit card to the waiter, who runs it through the micros computer and hands it back. Once the slip is signed, he makes his way back up to me.
“Ready?” His voice is hypnotic. We walk hand in hand back to the front of the restaurant and to the car.
Back in front of my house, I notice my mom is home. I have thoughts, but the last thing I want is to have her walk in on me. She knows no boundaries. I have to lock the door when I’m in the shower so she won’t stroll in. I shake my head, realizing that I really need my own place.
“Maybe sometime this week you can come with me to look at some places?” I ask hopefully.
“Of course, it will be my pleasure,” he says exiting the car and walking over to my side. We walk a few steps toward my front door when he stops short. One hand slides down my back, flattening at the base of my spine, holding me close. I can feel his erection through his jeans. He reaches up with the other and caresses my face, his thumb tracing my lower lip. I look up into his adoring eyes as he leans down to kiss me. His lips are so soft and his kiss so sweet. His tongue finds mine, and our kiss deepens. He grabs the nape of my neck and holds me close. He clamps his teeth down on my lower lip and pulls, groaning low in his throat. Cupping my face, Chase kisses me like his life depends on it. Suddenly he stops, resting his forehead against mine. “We need to find you a place. Soon.”
I look up into those exquisite eyes. “I know.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow.” With that, he kisses my forehead and releases me. I turn back toward my front door and go in.
I don’t see my mom anywhere, so she must be upstairs in her bedroom. That’s good. As much as I love her, I don’t want to talk to her about Chase. She is still too bitter about Evan.
I go up the stairs to my room and change for bed. I start to think about all of the things I used to do for Evan. He was very needy. I think that’s his mom’s fault. She used to baby him. He’s the youngest, but the things his mom used to do were just absurd. She did everything for him, and he expected me to do the same. Not that I minded, but there was a limit.
We were sitting on his bed one afternoon and his mom was doing laundry. She walked into his bedroom and picked up all of the clothes that were scattered across his floor. That wasn’t the amazing thing. She came over and pulled the socks off his feet so she could wash them. His feet! She would ask him every night what he wanted for dinner. She wouldn’t cook what she wanted, or what his sister wanted or even his dad. But what he wanted. It was a little too much to take in. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.
Now I have someone doing all of that for me, and I am a little taken aback. I know Chase means well, but I don’t want to be like Evan. I want to be self-sufficient. I am self-sufficient. I would have gotten a job on my own merit. I don’t need anyone’s favors. I need to call Chase and tell him he was out of line. I don’t want to become dependent upon anyone.
I pick up my cell phone and dial Chase. He answers on the first ring. “Hello, beautiful.”
“We need to talk.” I try to sound stern.
“Uh, oh,” he chides.
“I’m serious.”
“Okay, what’s up?”
“I know you meant well when you pulled those strings at NOAA, but I don’t appreciate you going behind my back to do it,” I say, my tone clipped.
“That’s not what I intended. I was trying to help,” he replies.
“I know, but I need to do these things on my own. I don’t want to depend on anyone, especially when it comes to employment.” My voice holds a touch of menace.
; “I’m sorry, that wasn’t my intention.” He is starting to sound contrite, but I need to draw a line in the sand. And he needs to know that he can’t cross it.
“I’ve never had to depend on anyone, and I’m not about to start now.”
“Okay, I understand. I won’t do anything without your written consent again,” he half jokes.
“It’s not funny, Chase, I’m serious,” I snap.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“It’s just . . .” How do I put this? I sigh. “Next time, give me a heads up or something.” I know he means well, so I don’t want him to think I’m furious even though I should be.
“I promise. I’ll try not to interfere. It’s hard when I know there are so many things I can do for you.”
“That’s all I ask,” I say.
“I wish you would’ve come home with me,” he whispers.
“Me too. But I need to focus on finding an apartment, and you’ll distract me.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He sounds disappointed.
“Good night,” I whisper. He hangs up. Whew. I’m glad I got that off my chest. I wash up then drift off into a restless sleep.
These past few days have been a blur. I spend most of my waking hours looking through the paper and the internet trying to find an appropriate and affordable place to live. Everywhere decent is expensive. I want to live in a complex not in someone’s basement. Any halfway respectable apartments that I can afford are in non-desirable neighborhoods. I don’t want to come home to a break-in or have my windows smashed out to get my stock stereo. There has to be an easier way. My only other option is to go through a realtor. They could find me a place no problem, but it costs extra.
It’s Thursday evening, and 4th of July. Every year, my parents would throw this kick-ass party at the house over on Davis. People would come over from the mainland and party until dawn. My dad would light fireworks from the beach, and I would run around in circles with sparklers. Now, we don’t do much of anything. My mom tries to pretend the holiday doesn’t exist. Her friends call and try to get her to come out but to no avail. I try not to do too much of anything either. I’m working later tonight so that will be a nice distraction.
At my NOAA orientation, I met some of the other team members. My official start date is Monday, but I was asked to be on the site earlier this morning. It was out in Nassau, practically in Queens. Maybe Chase is right, and I should get an apartment in the city.
I’m sitting at my mom’s kitchen table about to head out to Anthony’s when my cell phone rings. It’s Chase. I swear he knows when I’m thinking about him.
“Hi,” I greet.
“Hello, beautiful. Any luck?” He knows I’ve been looking non-stop.
“No, nothing yet.”
“Now, I know what you said about Manhattan. I still think you should consider it. There are lots of places here that have reasonable rates.”
“I know. But I don’t know how I feel about living in the city.”
“It’s fun. There’s always something to do.” He really wants me living close. I’m not sure where this relationship is heading, and I might need some distance. On the other hand, if all goes well it could be fun.
Defeated, I sigh into the phone. “Do you have anywhere in mind?” I hear a quick gasp of air from the other end of the phone.
“I do as a matter of fact. Can you meet me tomorrow morning?”
“What time?”
“Say around ten? There are three places I want you to see.”
“As long as I’m back by five. I have to be at the restaurant for work at six. I technically don’t start with NOAA until Monday.”
“That won’t be a problem. I’ll only have a couple of hours in between meetings anyway,” he adds.
“Where should I meet you?”
“I’ll be at the office, meet me there.” He gives me the address, and I jot it down.
“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night, beautiful,” he breathes.
“Good night.”
Early the next morning, I head toward Chase’s office in Manhattan. I know if I don’t leave by a certain time, I’ll hit all kinds of traffic on the Expressway. I have the address programmed into my GPS. He works in the financial district, almost around the corner from his apartment.
The drive isn’t too bad. I connect my phone’s Pandora to my stereo so I have favorable music to listen to. This early, all that’s on the radio are morning talk shows. I drive along singing to a mix of my favorites.
I arrive at his office at a quarter to ten. I have to circle around a few times before I can find a place to park. Once situated, I sit and wait for Chase to appear.
He pops out of his building right on time. I get out of the Jeep to meet him. He sees me and makes his way over to me, pulling me into an embrace. I feel so comfortable in his arms. He kisses me on top of my head.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he greets.
“Good morning,” I say.
“Are you ready to find a place to live?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Good. We’re meeting the realtor at the first building. The buildings are all within a block of each other. I thought we could walk.”
“Sure, it’s a nice morning.” He takes my hand, and we make our way down Wall Street toward Broad Street.
“Don’t you live near here?” I ask.
“Yup, the apartments we’re going to look at are close to mine.”
“I can’t afford to live by you,” I blurt out. Now I’m anxious.
“The apartments the realtor is showing us are sub-lets. They’ll be in your price range, don’t worry.” He gives me a reassuring smile.
“Okay, lead on.”
We turn down Broad Street heading straight toward his apartment building.
“You’re not taking me to your building?” I ask horrified.
He chuckles. “No, I wouldn’t do that to you. It’s the building before, here on the right.” He stops in front of Fifteen Broad Street. A woman is waiting near the entrance and waves at us. She must be the realtor. She comes scurrying over as fast as her high heels will allow.
She’s an older woman, maybe in her late fifties. Short and stocky with short dark brown hair, she’s dressed business casual with the exception of those crazy high heels. I don’t know how she can walk in those things.
Chase makes introductions. “Olivia Barrett, this is Madelyn Gold, my realtor.”
“Nice to meet you,” I murmur.
“A pleasure, Ms. Barrett.” She shakes my hand firmly then Chase’s. “Good morning, Mr. Remington. This is the first of three listings I’d like to show you.” She turns her attention back to me. “Ms. Barrett, this is Downtown by Philippe Stark at Fifteen Broad Street. Please follow me.”
Madelyn takes us through a stark white lobby where a giant crystal chandelier in the center of the room hangs from floor to ceiling. It must be ten feet round! She guides us toward the elevators and presses the up button. Once the elevators open, she presses the eighth floor and up we go.
The doors open, and she ushers us out and walks down the hall to a door, puts the key in and opens it. “After you,” she insists, and we go in. “Downtown by Philippe Stark at Fifteen Broad Street is one of Philippe Starck’s greatest designs,” she recites. She is selling this apartment like crazy. She has the listing in her hand and is reading off a card. “This beautiful loft-like apartment, features southern views, eleven foot beamed high ceilings, four inch wide maple floors, and stainless steel kitchen appliances. The spacious, fourteen hundred plus square foot unit offers a large interior bedroom suite plus a home office, or second bedroom with its own bath, private entrance and custom closet. In addition to two full baths, there is also a Bosch washer and dryer. The apartment has white-glove amenities including business and fitness centers, a yoga/ballet studio, swimming and reflecting pools, bowling alley, basketball court, theater, sports lounge, recreation and ch
ildren’s rooms, and a five thousand square foot roof park.”
It’s not too big, which is nice. I’m not crazy about the long and narrow galley kitchen. It’s also in the center of the apartment so there are no windows, and I wouldn’t be able to look out at guests if I were cooking. I’m not thrilled. “What do you think?” Chase asks.
“I don’t know,” I reply. “I’m not sure I like the kitchen. It’s too cramped.”
“I agree, let’s go and see the other apartments.” I nod as he turns to Madelyn. “She’s not thrilled, let’s go see the other two.”
“Sure, I understand,” Madelyn says with a smile. We head back out the door we came in. She locks the door behind us, and we get back in the elevator.
Once downstairs and out the lobby entrance, she leads us down the block a little further. We’re getting closer to Chase’s apartment. Madelyn stops in front of Twenty Five Broad Street. “Ms Barrett, this is The Exchange, one of my favorite apartments. Let’s head upstairs, shall we?” I follow behind her, Chase in tow.
She directs us through the lobby to an elevator all by itself off to the side. Once inside, she hits a button that says PH. It’s the only button in the elevator! I can’t afford a penthouse! Chase hasn’t let go of my hand, and I glance at him. He see’s my anxiety and gives my hand a soft squeeze along with a reassuring smile.
We arrive to the top floor and Madelyn leads us out of the elevator. She heads over to a door and unlocks it. We follow her in. As we enter, she starts to read the listing verbatim from a pamphlet in her hand.
“Truly unique and special, this sunny and quiet thirteen hundred square foot two bedroom, two and a half bathroom penthouse features additional fourteen hundred plus square feet of private outdoor terrace, accessible by both the living room and master bedroom, and twelve foot ceilings . . .” I stop listening to Madelyn as she drones on. I’m wandering around the living area as she is reading her script. Holy shit, this place must cost a fortune! The place is huge, and that’s an understatement. I don’t want or need all this room.
Drawn to You Page 17
