Page 194 of The Last Good Man

That silly voice inside my head laughs her little butt off. I so want to tell her to shut up and whack her upside the head.

He turns his face to me, utterly amused, only for me to see.

“All right then,” he says, winking at me, only for me to see. "Thank you so much for your help, Miss… I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name. Melanie… something.”

He’s pushing it.

“Melody Hill,” I say as Mina witnesses the exchange before swinging her gaze to the corridor, and I wag my finger at him.

He rolls his bottom lip beneath his teeth, and I get warm below my waist.

His eyes fuck me just as good as his fingers and his dick.

I can’t look at him anymore without smiling, so I tip my gaze down and sift through some reports when I speak.

“Enjoy the presentation, Mr. London.”

“I sure will.”

I tip my gaze up just as he turns around and follows Mina to the conference room.

I’m fucked.

‘You can say that again,’the little voice inside my head murmurs, not holding back her insolent laughter.

MELODY

Tuesday

I left work early to see the apartments.

After perusing the list Mina had emailed me, and honestly, not seeing anything that spoke to me, I decided to add a few properties to the list of places I’m seeing today, and here I am.

My feet hurt. I need a cigarette badly––this is only getting worse––and I’m hungry.

But I’m down to the last three properties, and the real estate agent, a woman with an infectious smile and energy for days, works her butt off to make me happy, so I can’t let her down.

Even if I end up with nothing, I will at least have an idea of what’s on the market.

The problem is, there’s nothing wrong with the properties, except they’re not for me.

I’ve seen small and large places, and they’re either too far away, too crowded, or the buildings are too old.

Or they’re some modern establishment without much history and, ultimately, soulless.

Or they’re simply too pretentious.

Despite saying I don’t want to raise a family in Manhattan, the way things are going, I might need to spend some time here single, so I need to make it mine.

I don’t want to hate going home.

I have that now.

So far no luck.

Angela, the real estate agent, and I walk into the last place, and she looks at me, trying to gauge my reaction.

I don’t have one.

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