Page 203 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

I’ve had a lot of thoughts about her parents since Juni told me her story. Some good. Some bad. At the end of the day, I think they were searching for a pot of gold that didn’t exist. It came at the expense of their daughter, though. “That’s too bad.”

“It really is. Everyone in the building adores her, but we’re also ready for her to leave.”

“Why is that?”

“Oh, honey.” She leans her head against my shoulder, smiling like a cat who caught the canary. “This is where we spend our twilight years, while for younger folk like you, it’s just a stop on your journey. A great location in a prestigious building. But she needs to spread her wings and fly out of this place. She needs to live without the security of this nest and find her place in this world. She’d be missed, but we’ll survive. Until we don’t because we’re old.”

Mike calls, “Mrs. Hendricks. It’s your turn.”

I stand and then help her to her feet. She says, “She could do worse than you. Handsome and rich.”

Laughing, I say, “I could only be so lucky to have the chance.” I look at the empty elevator and then say, “Are you ready to go?”

“Since Artie passed away.”

After the lobby is empty and everyone is safely back in their apartments, I drop on the bed next to Juni. “My body hurts. I must have run down twenty times.” I never wanted to keep the elevator from picking more people up by calling it to take me down. Juni’s idea.

“The good news is you don’t have to work out tomorrow.” She rolls to her side and props up on her elbow. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

I eye her out of the corner of my eye and then give her a wink. “I got distracted.”

“It happens.” She scoots closer and drapes an arm and leg over me. With her eyes closed, she says, “The good news. Number two is done.”

“At least something good came from it.”

We’ve had a lot of sex in the last week, but tonight, I just want to hold her. “What do you say we take a shower to get the smoke and sweat off, and we go to bed?”

“Sounds like heaven.”

It is. She’s heaven in my arms. I don’t know yet what to do with Mrs. Hendricks’s words.

But she needs to spread her wings and fly out of this place. She needs to live without the security of this nest and find her place in this world. She’d be missed, but we’ll survive.Is that what Juni needs? To be set free? Free of commitment to a job. Free of commitment to a tiny dog. Free of commitment . . .to me?Mrs. Hendricks was definitely right and wrong about one thing, though.

She’d be missed, but I’m not sure if I’d survive.

Is there any way I can keep her here without it feeling as though I’m clipping her freedom-seeking wings?

~ One Month Later ~

“What is this?” I ask, walking into the reception area.

Juni looks at the booklet in my hand and replies, “The Unofficial Manual to Christiansen Wealth Management. That’s a mouthful. It needs an acronym. UMCWM. That doesn’t work.”

I set it down on the counter of her desk. “We can figure that out later, but whatisit?”

“You once asked me how I knew you liked the office at a freezing seventy-one degrees.” She taps the top of the booklet. “That’s how.”

“Vaguely. I need more.”

“You always do.” I’m pretty sure that was a sex joke. The wink confirms it. She says, “Melissa started a manual about everyone’s specifics, especially the bosses and Christiansens. I’ve added to it since I took this job. Figured it was my contribution to the next reception assistant.”

Thumbing through the booklet, I find some relief that it’s under a hundred pages. “Reception assistant?” I ask, glancing up at her.

“Receptionist feels dated. I thought a few minor changes wouldn’t hurt.”

I realize it’s not like discovering a plant’s veins contract and expand, but she’s here, even if it’s only temporarily, and improving the company.

I can’t help but want her to stay, but at some point, Mrs. Hendricks’s words need to come into play. Not just in relation to the apartment building but to this job that she’s incredibly overqualified for, and simply isn’t her destiny. Yeah, yeah. I said the d-word.Don’t tell her.

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