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)
“I have to meet with the construction crew. I noted some more renovations today that should be done,” I told him.
“Didn’t you hire Maegan for that shit?” he asked.
I had hired Maegan to manage the building, not the construction, but I wasn’t going to explain that to Kiro. He’d have no idea what that meant. The last job he’d had, other than entertaining millions of people with his voice, was a fast-food joint when we were eighteen. My renovating this place was work to him. He didn’t comprehend my desire to do it.
A loud alarm suddenly went off, and I stood up, recognizing it. A fire alarm. FUCK!
“Holy hell, what is that noise?” Kiro asked, not moving from his relaxed position.
“Fire alarm,” I said, heading toward the door that led to the main elevator.
The stairs were located in the private entrance. I needed to get to the source of the smoke faster than that.
My phone started ringing, and Maegan’s name lit up the screen.
“Where is it?” I asked her as the elevator doors opened.
“Security system says the third floor.” Her words were rushed. “But it just says smoke detected. The sprinklers have only gone off on the third floor. Maybe not even every apartment. I can’t be sure. This is new, and I am still working out how to read the system alerts.”
“I’m headed there now,” I snapped, then ended the call as I stepped into the elevator.
Kiro stood at my open door, watching me. “In a fire, you’re supposed to take the damn stairs,” he barked at me.
“You take the stairs and get out,” was my response.
I let the elevator close, and I went down to the third floor—Brielle’s floor. I didn’t know if it was her apartment, but I did know there were only three apartments on the third floor.
Brielle and the apartment beside hers were smaller, but the apartment across from hers was a three bedroom/three bath with double Brielle’s square footage. The apartments on the first and second floor were either Brielle’s size or smaller. The fourth floor had two of the larger apartments, and then there was my floor.
When the doors to the elevator opened, the first voice I heard was Brielle. She was talking to someone in a comforting tone. The sound of her voice calmed me, but I didn’t want to think about that too deeply.
I hadn’t raced down here to make sure she was safe. I was worried about all my tenants and my investment.
My gaze went from Brielle’s door to her neighbor’s, where I found her with her arm around an older lady as she talked to her. The older lady’s door was open, and the smoke was wafting from it. I could also see the sprinklers going off inside the apartment. That was going to be a fucking mess to clean up.
“It’s okay, Mrs. Jo. Everything is fine. It was just a little oven fire. It’s taken care of, and all your things will dry. Now, take a deep breath and relax. You’re safe,” Brielle said to the older lady, who was clearly rattled but taking a deep breath, just like Brielle had told her to do.
“I forgot to set the timer. I never forget that. I always remember when I got a pie in the oven,” the lady said in a shaky voice as she looked at Brielle.
“Everyone forgets things sometimes. I forgot to put the milk back in the fridge yesterday, and it sat out all night. This morning, it was completely ruined. It happens. But you’re okay,” Brielle told her. “Do you want me to call Andrew?”
The older lady nodded.
“Let’s walk over to my apartment then and get you seated on the sofa while I call him,” she said just as the sprinklers inside the apartment shut off.
Brielle turned back to look at the door when she saw me standing there.
“Fire department and the building manager are on their way,” I told her.
She nodded, then sighed heavily. “It was an accident,” she told me in a tone that made it clear she would go into battle for the older lady if she needed to.
“Is everyone okay?” I asked her.
She nodded again. “Mrs. Jo is just shaken. She was on her balcony, watering the plants, when it went off. It’s upset her.”
I glanced at the woman, who was looking at me curiously. Taking a step in their direction, I held out my hand toward her. “I’m Dean Finlay. I own the building. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Jo,” I said to her.
She did a quick scan of my entire body, as if sizing me up. Then, she put her small hand in mine. “You have an awful lot of tattoos,” she said to me.
I smirked and nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”
She shook her head, as if disappointed, then let go of my hand. “It’s a shame a man as good-looking as yourself would do that to his body. That could have been a nice chest you’re showing off, but you’ve gone and colored it all up.” Her gaze dropped back to it, and then she gasped. “Good Lord have mercy,” she said, then pointed a crooked finger toward my nipple piercing.