Adley gave me a lot to think about this morning. I want to start fresh with Smith tonight. I want to see if the kiss can lead to more.
I read his text message the second it arrives on my phone.
I'm ready if you are, Petal. Head over. I'll be here.
He doesn't know that I'm already on East Sixty-Fourth Street. I wanted to be nearby if he gave me the good-to-go. I take a deep breath, look down at the short yellow sundress and nude heels I'm wearing and I start toward the brownstone on foot.
This is it. Tonight I'm going to do my very best to leave the past where it belongs so I can see what the future has in store for me.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Smith
I workedmy arms out like a motherfucker this afternoon. It wasn't at the gym. I left work shortly after noon and headed directly to Park Slope, here in Brooklyn.
A month ago I went and did the one thing I swear I'd never do again. I bought a brownstone. This one is at least in half-ass decent shape. The first one I bought three years ago was a massive pile of shit. The woman I bought it from, Sigrid Hull, did nothing to maintain it.
That's not to say that my great-grandparents did any upkeep either. By the time I got my hands on that building, it had needed a total gut job. It took me a year and a half and a small fortune to restore the place to a fraction of what it once was.
I didn't need it to be magazine worthy. I needed it be livable and wheelchair accessible.
It's one of the few brownstones on the Upper East Side that comes with an elevator. It also comes with a boatload of memories for my granddad. His family owned the buildingbefore it was sold to Sigrid's parents more than fifty years ago when my great-grandfather's business took a massive hit.
Today, I started the remodel on the home I'm going to bring my sister and her twins to. Her husband left her without a word and she wants to be in New York where her family is. I'm going to make it happen. I want them here in Brooklyn. I want to jump full force into the role of uncle to those boys.
My plan is to get Brynn on board for this project. I need her eye for design. I also want to give her a national platform to promote her business. It's the reason I've been pitching the idea to Resa of taking this remodel on air with Brynn at the helm of all the interior design aesthetics. I know we'll make a winning team.
I step out of the shower and towel-dry my hair before I look in the mirror. My left hand runs over my chest and the spot where I'm thinking of getting inked. I'm taking inspiration from Brynn's tattoo. Family is everything to me too and I'm sure as shit aware of how lucky I am in that department.
I look down at my phone on the bathroom counter when it chimes, hoping it's another message from Brynn. She texted me right before I hopped in the shower telling me she's on her way.
It's a text from my younger brother Simon.
Dude, there's a beautiful woman here looking for you.
I scratch my chin as I reread it. Then I thumb back a quick response.
I'm not falling for this again, you little shit. I have plans tonight. I can't come over.
I watch as the three small dots bounce across the screen before his reply pops up.
Gramps is telling her stories and she's eating it up. Seriously you asshole, why would a woman like this want anything to do with you?
My grandfather is talking to someone he's not related to?What the hell?
I don't have a chance to respond before his next message comes through.
Her name is Brynn. She's crying, dude. What should I do?
Brynn's at the brownstone? Why the fuck is Brynn at the brownstone?
I scoop up my phone and text a message back to him as I jog to my bedroom to get dressed.
Keep her there. I'm on my way.
I burstthrough the door of the brownstone, sweating profusely through my white T-shirt and jeans from the non-air conditioned taxi ride over. I debated taking the subway or calling on Arthur to bring me here, but a taxi, at this time of day, was the best choice to get me here as soon as possible.
I rub my hand over my brow as I scan the foyer. Nothing. Dead silence.
