Page 24 of Damaged

“Sounds good!” I cringe when he turns. I said that far too chipper.

James is nicer than his evil persona makes him seem. If he was truly the asshole I thought he was, he probably would’ve just tossed some money on the broken door and left the fixing it to me.

Or not come to the rescue in the first place when he heard a woman screaming.

I don’t have time to do my full nightly routine with James waiting for me. I scrub off the remainder of my makeup, skip the slugging, and vigorously and quickly brush my teeth.

I’ve been doing all this and trying to ignore the fact that there are butterflies in my stomach.

Butterflies. But they’re not lovey-dovey butterflies. More like little fiery stabs of anticipation.

James is hot. That’s all it is. And he looks like he’d rock my world. But I’m not going to feed his massive ego. Not to mention I work for him now. I forgot about that one—there’s an ethics issue on the table, and I don’t want to be that girl.

I find James on his phone waiting by the stairwell door. I hold Steve under one arm.

“This is Steve.”

“Nice to meet you,” James says in the same tone he would use for a person, and then he turns and opens the stairwell door and lets me walk in front of him.

We get to the second to last floor, and James types a code into a lock on the door. It beeps and flashes green and then lets us into a small square room with nothing but another door on the far side of it.

He unlocks this one by code, too, and we step into his apartment.

Lots of security. I can tell he must’ve made some enemies while building his fortune.

“The kitchen is that way.” He points right down a marble hall. “So is the largest guest suite. The room has everything you should need.”

The space is modern. There’s no dark hardwoods or paints. The walls are white and also made of marble. Of course they are.

I hear a faint trickle of water. I look left to what must be the foyer and see a modern metal fountain with flat tiers pouring into each other. The water is underlit with bright-blue light.

“Thanks.”

“And these doors lock behind you on your own. When you want to leave, just go out the way we came in.”

“Okay.”

I set Steve down, and he immediately darts off to explore. “Don’t worry, he’s well behaved. He won’t pee anywhere.”

“That’s fine. Sorry about your door.” James hesitates. “Good night,” he says and walks left towards the foyer and fountain. The butterflies begin to dissipate. What was I expecting? That we’d be bunking up together?

I’ve seen the listing. This place is around 10,000 square feet. It’s a mansion only above the streets of New York. I walk to the kitchen. It’s all warm light wood and white marble countertops. The fixtures are light gold. It’s all very tasteful. Nothing about this new construction screams tasteless bachelor. There are no empty whiskey bottles as decoration or swords on the wall.

It smells great, too. Like cedar incense and cold water.

The furniture is all modern and not over the top. It takes me a minute to realize James hired someone to do all this. Of course he didn’t lift a finger, even if he does put together his own bookshelves. But I cut him some slack. There are plenty of gaudy designers he could’ve hired. He chose a good one.

I find the bedroom and slip off my shoes. My soles are warm on the floor. It’s heated. Once again, of course it is. I suddenly understand the appeal of this penthouse. It’s a sanctuary above the city. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a zen garden somewhere in here. I wish he would’ve given me a tour out of curiosity, but it would’ve been lame to ask.

The bed in the guest bedroom is a king and low to the ground, and I flop onto it. I stare at the ceiling, almost pissed. This mattress is incredible. It feels like a cloud.

Money really does buy everything.

It’s been a strange day, and I’m suddenly very tired. I wouldn’t mind going to bed early. I go to the bathroom, turn on the light, and stare at the walk-in shower for almost a full minute. Admire, I should say.

It’s black marble with white veins. There are a dozen shower heads coming out of the wall and a speaker in the ceiling. It might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I strip naked right there and crank on all the nozzles. I stay in for a good fifteen minutes. There’s a detachable shower headon the wall that I keep staring at. There’s a tickle in my core. An itch that needs to be scratched.

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