Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
“Okay,” he says. The elevator pings, and we get in. I press the button for the seventh floor.
“You can only access your floor with a key, but since it’s an open house, it’s accessible.” I turn to find him nodding his head. He hasn’t said more than five words to me, and all his answers have been curt. Maybe I was too nosy last night, and he didn’t want to open up to me, but I just kept pushing. I don’t have much more time to think about it before the elevator doors open and we are faced with the apartment right away. He holds out his hand for me to walk ahead of him, again not saying anything.
“Hi, welcome to our open house,” Nicole, a fellow real estate broker, says to me, and then she must recognize me. “Hey, Zoe, I didn’t know you were in the market?”
“We aren’t really,” I tell her. “He is new to the city, so I’m showing him the area and saw it was an open house.” I smile at her and look around. “High ceilings are really nice.” I look over at Viktor who has walked to one of the three windows and is looking outside.
“A little bit to know about the penthouse,” Nicole states and hands Viktor a paper with everything on it. “It’s a four-bedroom, four-bath built in nineteen eighty-two. But renovated last year. It’s one thousand eight hundred square feet.”
“My closet in LA was that size,” Viktor says and then comes back to stand next to me.
“Yes. New York is nothing like Los Angeles,” Nicole says with a nervous laugh. “There is an HOA.”
“Great,” Viktor says sarcastically.
“It’s almost nine thousand a month,” Nicole says. “Please feel free to look around, and if you have any questions, I’m here. Be sure to check out the rooftop terrace,” she says before she walks away.
“Why don’t we start downstairs and work our way up?” I suggest to him. Again, he waits for me to lead the way, so I walk down the modern stairs that look like they’re hanging from strings to another little sitting area. “There are three bedrooms on this level,” I tell him and wait for him to walk around. He walks into the master bedroom and then in the other one while continuing to check his phone every second. His eyes rove around the room, but you can see he really isn’t looking.
“How much is this?” he asks while he walks to the third one. His fingers either tap his phone or he’s looking at it.
“Eight point seven million,” I remind him.
“Insane.” He shakes his head, glances at me, then looks back at his phone again. “Plus, the kitchen is upstairs.”
“Yes.” I nod and see his hands start to move nervously. What is going on with him? I want to ask, but I’m afraid to.
“I don’t even want to see anything more,” he says, then his phone pings in his hand. “I have to go. I’ll text you later,” he says and then jogs up the steps, leaving me alone in the middle of the house. I walk up the stairs and hear the elevator door close.
“Well, that was quick,” Nicole says, and I put on my game face.
“He had a meeting he had to run to,” I tell her, “but I’ll let you know if he wants a second round.” I walk to the elevator.
Putting my head down, I make my way out of the building, and I’m a bit pissed off and a lot irritated. I hold my hand up and flag down a cab the same time I get my phone out and send a group message to my sisters, sister-in-law, and her best friend, Vivienne.
Me: Coming home tonight and I need a drink. Who is with me?
Everyone answers yes, so I put my phone away. I get home and when I finally take it out again, I see that I have missed over a hundred notifications from the group chat that was not tabled, and I also see one from Viktor. I contemplate opening it, but I choose against it; instead I grab my laptop and my overnight bag, and when Vivienne rings the bell, I’m ready to go.
“I have a car waiting, and I already have the wine,” she says, running back down to the car, and I get in with her.
“Where is the wine?” I ask her.
“In the water bottles,” she says, reaching into her bag and grabbing the “water bottles.”
“It’s yellow,” I point out.
“We can say it’s Crystal Light,” Vivienne says, uncapping the bottle. “Yup, tastes just like it.” I open my own bottle and take a sip.
“Yup, this should be perfect.” I cheer her with my bottle and take a gulp.
“Good news. I brought six just in case.” She winks at me. “It’s going to be a fun night.”