Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“It’s going to be fine. Everything will be replaced,” Dean said, now standing beside me.
I glanced over at him and simply nodded. He was right. No one was injured. Mrs. Jo wasn’t hurt. Things could be replaced. I wasn’t upset about that, but I wasn’t going to waste my time, telling him about the little birthday party I had planned for Mrs. Jo’s seventy-eighth birthday.
He and I weren’t friends. We might even be enemies. I wasn’t sure how to categorize us. Not that I had to categorize it. Keeping Dean Finlay firmly out of my life was my main goal. I wasn’t some silly woman who needed or wanted his attention.
“Come with me,” Dean said.
I snapped my head up to stare at him. “Excuse me?”
He smiled. “Please? Come with me?”
I looked back at my open apartment door.
“Maegan has this under control. She’ll make sure everything is taken care of. If there is any issue, she will call me. You’ve had a stressful experience. Mrs. Jo told a firefighter how you came into her apartment and used the fire extinguisher to put out the flames, then got her out of there. That’s a lot. Come upstairs with me. I have beer or soda if you prefer. Just come sit and relax. Decompress. This could take a while.”
I was torn here. I was curious about his penthouse. A soda sounded good too. But then hadn’t I just thought about him as an enemy?
I glanced at my apartment. He was being a very thorough landlord by making sure things were fixed. He was arrogant and self-absorbed, but then again, he was famous. It was just a drink and a place to wait. It wasn’t as if he were asking to be my friend. He wouldn’t be a part of my life. This wouldn’t hurt anything.
Shrugging, I turned my attention back to him. “Okay. Sure,” I replied.
His eyebrows shot up, as if he was shocked by my response, and I couldn’t blame him. I was a little shocked myself. This could possibly be a mistake.
“I want to see what your penthouse looks like. It’s just curiosity,” I admitted.
I didn’t want him to think I was afraid he might be trying to lure me into his apartment to seduce me. I knew that wasn’t on his agenda.
Dean chuckled. “Fair enough,” he replied. “Elevator was down for a few minutes, but it’s working again. We can take it.”
I followed him into the elevator, and the smell of smoke was even inside this small space.
“How long have you lived here?” he asked me.
“You have my lease and all my personal information,” I replied.
He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I do. But I’d rather ask you than go snooping. It’s called small talk.”
Fine. There was no point in being rude. I couldn’t always be annoyed by him. He was being nice for the moment.
“Almost four years,” I told him.
I didn’t elaborate on the fact that getting the job at the college was the reason we had been able to move to this side of town. Before then, we had lived in a rough area, where I’d shared a room with Cam. Most nights, you could hear gunfire and police sirens. It gave me comfort to have Cam in the same room as me then. Moving here changed our lives. Gave Cam some independence and privacy. More importantly, it had given him a better education.
“Where did you move from?” he asked me then.
“Across town,” was the only answer he was getting.
The elevator doors opened, and we stepped out into an elaborate entryway with a marble floor and light fixtures with a flickering gas flame in them. The black double doors were wide and shiny. I took it all in as I slowly followed him to the entrance. He pressed a code, and the right door opened.
“My stove is electric,” I said.
He glanced back at me. “If it’s damaged, Maegan will make sure it’s replaced.”
I shook my head. That wasn’t what I’d meant. “My stove isn’t gas. Neither is my heating. But you have gas lanterns. How … when did the building get gas?” And does the building have carbon monoxide detectors?
“It had the gas lines already. They were just capped off and not being used,” he replied, then stepped back to allow me to enter his penthouse.
“What the fuck took you so long? I’m starving, and you haven’t got shit to eat,” a male voice called out.
Dean sighed heavily, as if he was annoyed or had possibly forgotten he had company.
Before he could reply, Kiro Manning appeared in the entrance, holding a beer in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. He held up the chips and beer. “This is shit food, Dean. Get yourself together, man.”
“Brielle, this is Kiro, my uninvited guest,” Dean said, then nodded for me to follow him as he began walking toward Kiro.