Page 23 of Rewrite the Rules

“Felices isn’t just a cat. He’s an F-1 Savannah. Do you know how long it took me to find a purebred F-1? I have a special bond with him. He’s so smartandhe can outswim a fish. And he never fights the harness which is really impressive for his age. They don’t fully mature until three years, so the fact that he’s only one and he already knows—”

“See? What do you need a girlfriend for? You’ve got a super disturbing obsession with your cat. Wrong kind of pussy to obsess over in my opinion, but hey if it makes you happy.”

“Thanks, asshole.”

“You’re most welcome.”

We snake through traffic, eventually making it to the parking garage of the Four Seasons. I find the spot with ‘J. Lewis’ marked in clean black block letters.

“You’re still in a hotel? I thought you said you bought a place?” Cody slings his duffel over his shoulders.

“I did. You can own private residences here. I bought the penthouse.”

“Youbought the penthouse at the Four Seasons?” He lets out a long whistle while he shakes his head from side to side. “Not your usual taste.”

“It was an impulse buy.”

I didn’t want to hunt. I bought the first place the realtor showed me. It’s fifteen minutes from the office. It’s right in the heart of the downtown action. Every restaurant, store, pharmacy, gym—you name it—is in walking distance. It’s in the only area of Denver that feels like a mini-Manhattan. The penthouse is way too big for just me with four bedrooms and five bathrooms, but when the realtor showed me the place for the first time there was something about the spiral staircase and the dripping lights from the ceiling that captured my attention. I bought it in cash and prepaid two years’ worth of the resident service fees. Case closed. Move in and move on.

“Why didn’t you tell me, man? I would’ve come to visit a lot sooner. Do I get my own chef? Do my guests have a private access door?”

“Cody.” I shoot him a look as we walk through the resident access elevators. “Do not bring some skirt to my home who will end up stalking me again. Seriously. Take it to their place.”

Cody grabs his ribs, he’s laughing so hard. “One…time…man. You’ll never let it go. Carmen was a nice girl.”

“Nice? Why’d you bring her back to my place instead of yours then?”

“Because your apartment was nicer…and also, I didn’t want to get stalked.” Cody clicks his jaw as he shoots off his finger guns.

“Exactly—case in point. Again, asshole.”

We bolt up forty-three floors to arrive at the private hallway to the penthouse. After a quick tour and a slew of curse words describing how I’m a privileged son of a bitch who lives in a golden palace, he asks about dinner. He leans forward on the kitchen island as he studies the takeout menus I’ve presented. When he stretches upright he bumps his head on one of the rustic low-hanging lights.

“Tricky bastards. Gotta watch out for those.” He rubs the back of his head as he winces.

“They don’t move, dude.” I shake my head at his clumsiness. Cody is an odd contradiction. He’s a clown day to day, but on the football field he’s all grace and coordination. “Anyway, help yourself. Order takeout or call resident services. Whatever you want, on me. I’ll be back a little later tonight.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. It’s my first night in town and you’re ditching me?”

“I have to handle some stuff at the office.” I pull out my phone to check if Adler responded to my text from earlier.

Nothing.

Of course not. Every day is a constant reminder of how badly I hurt her feelings over the most ridiculous lie that I thought she’d see right through. But instead, she ate it up instantly. She fought tears the entire drive home from our hike. My stomach aches thinking about it.

“Ah. Office. Got it.” He winks and throws the China Village menu at me frisbee style which pelts me right in the chest. “Does this have something to do with your pretty office assistant that booked my travel?”

“How do you know she’s pretty?”

“I looked her up on Instagram after she emailed me my itinerary.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “You gettin’ yourself into trouble at the office?”

“Nope. She hates me.”

“Why?”

Hate might be a strong word. But ever since I lied to Adler and told her I wasn’t attracted to her two weeks ago she’s been nothing but short and polite. No more inside jokes, no more playful banter. She does her job flawlessly while barely acknowledging me—it’s soul crushing. I wish I could explain I was just trying to spare her from all the trouble I cause.

“She’s hot…but she’s smart and sweet. She’s funny too. I don’t know. I liked her way too much, way too fast, sonaturallywhen she tried to kiss me, I decided to humiliate the shit out of her and tell her I wasn’t attracted to her right in the middle of standstill traffic. Let me tell you, that was an awkward-asslongride home.”

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