Page 4 of Playing With His Heart

He found out where she worked from the rental application, which wasn’t against the law or an invasion of privacy because he was the building owner and she was his tenant. He was just hoping he could smooth things over by going to see her at her office, only she wasn’t there. He couldn’t wait for her to get in because he had an appointment to meet the cooling tech to fix her air conditioning. It took longer than he wanted, and the news was much worse than just her one air unit. The entire building needed new hardware installed.

He was caught between a rock and a hard place. The better choice would be to drop the apartment complex and rebuild, but where would he put all the tenants? He couldn’t just kick them out with no notice. It also wouldn’t be a financially sound idea to fix everything that broke down. Inevitably, it wouldn’t stop at just the air units.

Before that morning, he hadn’t been in the building in many years. Normally, Frank contacted his office—but when he stepped inside, he saw just how much work it really needed. The other thing was that those tenants had considerably lower rent versus any of the other buildings he owned. Many of those people couldn’t afford to pay more, so he also needed to take that into consideration as he moved forward.

There was a knock at his door. He didn’t turn because it wouldn’t be anybody else but Jerry. Nobody ever got past his assistant without being announced in some way, shape, or form.

“Mr. Holden, did you need anything?”

I swear he has a sixth sense. He always knows when I need to talk to him.

“I do. Can you get me a list of all my residential complexes and which ones have availability right now?”

“Yep, can do. Are you thinking about leveling Terrace Gardens?”

“It’s just a thought right now, but I’d like to know my options. I can’t leave these people high and dry.”

“I know you don’t have any openings in the buildingyoulive in because I just got the lease information in today on the last unit. I’ll pull the other buildings, though.”

“Also, how about a count from Terrace Gardens, too? On the number that would need to be moved.”

“Give me a couple minutes. I have all of that information saved in a file.”

Jerry left, closing the door behind him. Thank god, the day was over. He didn’t have the mental capacity to stay late. He still had work to do, but he could just take the files home and go over them later—after a long shower and dinner.

He shut down the computer on his desk and grabbed the laptop from his side table, putting it in the padded briefcase he used to transport it. It was too hot to wear his suit coat. Zayn wished he hadn’t taken his khakis and T-shirt home to wash. He would have changed before leaving.

Jerry knocked and entered, handed him a duffle bag, and laid the files on the desk next to his briefcase.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Clothes. You sat them down next to my desk the other day and left without them. I had them on top of my file cabinet.”

“Sweet, I thought I took those home.”

“If we’re good, I’m heading out. Jan made dinner reservations for us right around the corner.”

“That new Italian place they just opened?”

“Yeah. I heard it’s impossible to get a table, now. She called the day they opened. Wanted to surprise me. She’s waiting at my desk.”

“Go. Have fun. Give her a kiss for me.”

His assistant left his office, closing the door behind him. Zayn emptied the duffle on his desk, grabbing the shorts and T, and went to his private bathroom to change. He probably didn’t need to, but therewasa rare occasion someone would walk in his office without knocking. He also had a wall of windows, but with as high up as his office was, there was little chance of anyone seeing from that far away, unless they were spying with a magnifying scope.

When he emerged, he felt like a different person. Being successful had always been hard for Zayn because he’d grown up with nothing. He worked hard for every dime he had, and he didn’t take it for granted. If it wouldn’t be frowned upon, he’d probably wear jeans to work every day because he hated stereotypes. The suit wasn’t really him; it was just a look. Society had deemed it necessary. To be successful, one had to look the part or run the risk of not being taken seriously.

One day, he hoped to change that stereotype. There had to be some statistics somewhere that stated people were happier in comfortable, casual clothing and relaxed work environments.

As Zayn left his office, locking the door behind him, he stopped at Jerry’s desk and dug for a sticky note. After he scribbled a message for his assistant to see him first thing in the morning, he made a mental note to talk to Jerry the next day about going over the dress code and policies for the office. It was time he made some changes. It was also a perfect opportunity to look at reviews for his employees and compensate them properly for the work they did daily to ensure the entire team was successful.

Hell, he didn’t even know if his employees liked him as a person. How could they? They didn’t really know him. Maybe a summer barbeque would be a great way for them all to get to know each other and their families. Happy employees were productive employees.

Chapter Three

Jenna waited at the front desk of the ritzy high rise where her landlord lived. The floor in the lobby was so clean she was afraid to walk across it for fear of leaving a scuff from her black-soled heels. She couldn’t imagine living that way. Her own building looked like a broken-down cardboard box in comparison, and there was no front desk to check in, so they could announce visitors. It was more like they needed an armed guard to keep out the riffraff. She’d been surprised not to find bars on the windows.

She liked having the fire escape attached to her apartment. If it really worked, it would have given her more responsibility for the residents in case of an emergency. But, last year, when some idiot thought it would be fun to play on it, the bottom ladder broke off. It was okay, though. She’d rather not have strangers creeping around outside her window. Wasn’t like the owner was going to have that fixed, anyway.

---