Page 2 of Player For Hire

The lobby gleamed with fresh polish on the floors. The obsidian and ivory speckled checkerboard grid covered the huge common area. Colorful rugs sectioned off the room. One near the massive couches that made a U-shape around the fireplace, creating a cozy spot for people to hang out.On the other side of the room there were a half dozen intimate tables and a coffee station with a machine I was pretty sure you needed a degree in engineering to work.

The floor-to-ceiling windows framed out three sides of the space, showcasing the add-on to the old brick building. They were tinted for some privacy, but still allowed people to see the grandeur inside. The left and right windows were full of trailing greenery in massive, ornate boxes. I didn’t know much about plants--just how to kill them, to be honest--but the room had always seemed classy to me.

The Heights was a mix of super cash-heavy business types and a handful of us up-and-comers. I wasn’t fully on-board with my upward climb yet. I was having too much fun. Most of the people who lived here were young professionals. There were a few loft apartments, two bedrooms, and a handful of studios like mine.

Instead of loitering in the lobby as I usually did, I hurried over to the elevators on the right side where my apartment was. I waved to my aunt, who was behind the desk. She was held up with a resident and I was able to slip by without a lecture about tracking wet everywhere.

I tapped the button and hopped into the car when it opened. Inside was just as classy and slick as the rest of the building. The elevator was mirrored and gilded in brass with an art deco bent, an ode to the original architecture without the old tech.

“Hold the elevator!”

I slapped the open-door button as a woman in a pink raincoat breathlessly skidded on the floor. She shrugged her oversized sunny yellow bag onto her shoulder. I didn’t recognize her—which was impressive, since I knew everyone in the building.

“Thank you. Ugh, this rain, huh? Three, please.”

Hmm. That was my floor. How had I not seen her before? “April in New York is full of it.”

“Isn’t that the truth? I forgot how wet it could be.”She pushed her hood back and damp auburn hair tumbled around her shoulders. She was pretty in that way that made a man straighten up and want to hold a door open for her. Her beauty was simple and stunning—she had huge blue eyes and starred lashes, thanks to her wet cheeks. I wasn’t sure the last time I’d seen a girl without a face full of makeup.

“Visiting?”

“Just moved back.” Her smile was shy. “Do you live here?”

“Yeah, sorry.” I held out my hand. “I usually have better manners. Colder Banks. I didn’t realize anyone had moved out.”

A small frown wrinkled the space between her brows. Her hand was small and cool as she slipped it in mine. The shake was firm, but brief. Then she quickly tucked her hand back into her jacket pocket. “Naomi.”

Interesting. No last name. Cautious, maybe. I didn’t blame her—women needed to be. Kensington Square might be a relatively safe city, but it was still a city.

“I’ve lived here a long time. I kinda know everyone.” I smiled gently at her. “If anyone gives you trouble, let me know.”

Her cheeks pinked adorably. “That’s nice of you. Thanks.”

The doors slid open, and I gestured her forward. She glanced over her shoulder when I followed her. “Guess we live on the same floor, Naomi.”

“Oh.” Flustered, she tucked a hank of damp hair around her ear. “I guess I’ll see you around then.”

“I guess you will.” I stopped at the first door, digging my keys out. “This is me.”

She licked her lips. “I’m down the hall.” She paused, then she seemed to think better of it and rushed down the hall.

She stopped at Iona Bradford’s place. More interesting there since I wasn’t aware she had a new roommate. I wondered what had happened to her sister, but that curiosity was for another time.

Stepping inside my apartment, I tossed my keys into the chipped bowl my niece had made me in art class. I only had a few minutes to get a shower in and get across the street for my shift at Lonegan’s.

I loved living near my job. Commuting was a pain in the ass, especially since my ancient Toyota had seen better days.

My studio was comfortable with a king-sized bed taking up much of the space. I loved sleeping almost as much as playing, and I’d made sure to get top of the line there. Rain pelted the slim window near my bed as well as above me on the skylight. One of the perks of the third floor was the pure light up here. Not awesome if you didn’t want to wake with the sun, but thankfully, that never bothered me.

Even after working late nights at the bar, I didn’t mind waking to full sun.

A bookcase closed off the space for my bed for a bit of privacy and created my living space. I dug out my phone and stuck it on the charger, which activated my music app that piped through the speakers around my apartment. I made a pitstop in my galley kitchen and filled one of my water bottles, draining it once, then refilled it for the night and stuck it by my phone.

My bathroom was on the other side of the kitchen, and just as tiny. I swiped my hand over my face and decided I could get away with another day before I had to clean up my short beard. I shucked my workout gear and tossed it directly into the stackable washer in my bathroom. With the water steaming up the room, Bad Wolves serenaded me as I shampooed and sang along.

I was still singing as a chill Blue October song took me through my pre-work routine. A bit of gel for my stubbornly curly hair that already needed a cut, and moisturizer because thirty was coming at me like a freight train. Years of traveling across the country bouncing from job to job had been fun, but most of the work had been outside until I’d tired of sleeping under the stars or in shit boarding rooms.

I’d found that I was damn good at working at restaurants and bars. I liked people and was quick at picking up on the mood of a room. I’d finally settled on bartending, finding that it had the perfect blend of casual conversation and a fast pace.

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