“I know,” I state the obvious. “Close the door behind you.”
He takes the hint to leave while I pick up my phone and call my childhood friend to see if he’s in the mood for a beer this week.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Evie
If I wereto give a tour of my apartment, it would require no more than ten steps in any given direction.
That’s because I live in a studio on the third floor of a walk-up in Murray Hill.
The building is great, and as safe as can be.
There isn’t a doorman, but I have so many neighbors milling about that I can rarely turn the corner on my way home from work and not fall in step beside one of them.
We all look out for each other, and it’s given me a sense of community I didn’t know I needed. I may not know all my neighbors by name, but I could pick their friendly faces out of a crowd without any trouble.
Lottie lives in a much different world than I do.
Technically, it’s just a different neighborhood on the same island of Manhattan, but it feels like this is a world away from my home.
We’re in the elevator on our way up to her penthouse in a new building in Tribeca. After she greeted the doorman, heoffered me a chilled bottle of water along with a tip about a private gaming room. Apparently, it’s on the top floor of the building. Although it’s reserved for residents, he told me that if I were ever in the neighbourhood, I could stop by for some complimentary snacks and beverages along with all the gaming time I want.
Since I don’t want any, I thanked him and then followed Lottie to the bank of elevators.
“Your doorman is nice,” I comment as we step off the elevator into a corridor.
She flashes me a smile. “I like him.”
In the past hour, I’ve discovered that Lottie Rushing gets extremely quiet after she’s had a few glasses of champagne.
Tonight was the night we visited a wine bar to taste champagne so she could choose the one she wants served at her wedding.
They all tasted the same to me. That might be because I only sampled the smallest amount of each. I have to work tomorrow, and I can’t go in to the office with a hangover.
There’s no way Mr. Hunt wouldn’t notice that, and knowing him, he’d take full advantage of it by cramming even more errands into my already packed schedule.
On the way here, I took a look at the email he sent me an hour ago. The subject line said it all: Your Very Busy Friday Schedule.
So far, I know I have to stop by his apartment before eleven a.m. to water his dying plants. I need to pick up two suits from there to drop off at the dry cleaner. He wants me to take a pair of his shoes in because the sole on the left one needs to be replaced. Since Mr. Hunt never does anything halfway, I’m sure the man who takes on that task for him will be fixing both soles, whether the right one needs it or not.
After that, I stopped reading the list because I didn’t spot one actual work-related task on it.
I wait while Lottie unlocks the door at the end of the corridor before she swings it open. “Welcome to my home sweet home.”
“Holy shit, Lottie.”
Her head falls back in laughter. “Should I take that as a compliment?”
I laugh, too. “A huge compliment. Your apartment is gorgeous.”
It’s an understatement, but this place is magazine worthy. It’s expansive, and from what I can see from where I’m standing, she has exquisite taste in interior design.
“Thank you,” she accepts my words with a smile. “I need a big glass of water. Do you want one?”
I wiggle the water bottle in my hand. “Your doorman made sure I was all set.”
“Make yourself at home.” She gestures toward an area where two large leather sofas are facing a breathtaking marble fireplace. “I’m going to get that water, and then I’ve got to change into something else.”