I should take a picture because his face is priceless. It cracks me up. I’m not taking back what I said though. I do like boy bands now and then. If he doesn’t like them, he doesn’t have to listen.
When I see the pretty lights of the Chicago skyline come into view, I know we’ve arrived. This city is so beautiful. It hasn’t been that long since I was in Chicago, but it feels like it’s been forever. I’ve missed the city. It’s always abuzz with activity. There’s always something to do. I stare out the window as he drives us north on Lake Shore Drive. We must drive for a good twenty minutes before he takes an exit. The sign reads “Old Town.”
I want to say something like, “Whoa, you live in fancy-schmancy Old Town?” but I don’t. I decide to wait to see where he lives before I freak the fuck out. When he pulls down a driveway that leads to parking beneath the building, I know. I watch him click something on his visor and the garage door starts to raise slowly. He proceeds into the underground parking garage and pulls in next to a sweet-ass Range Rover in a deep maroon color. His spot is marked with “P1” painted in yellow. With the car in park, he switches off the motor, turns, and smiles. “Home sweet home.”
Not able to keep my stupid mouth shut, I blurt, “You live in freaking Old Town?”
“Yeah? Why?” He looks a tad affronted by my shock.
“You have underground parking. It’s like a lair.”
“And?” He chuckles.
“You’re like Batman.” I stare at him, waiting for him to say something, like deny the fact that he’s Batman. But he doesn’t, so I add, “It’s fancy.”
“It’s just a condo. Nothing special.”
“Uh-huh.” I push my door open and stomp to the back of his fancy car. I wait for him to open it so I can grab my suitcase and the duffle that I’d packed the night before.
I reach for the handle of my largest bag, but he shakes his head. “Give me the suitcase.”
“No, I’ve got it.”
“Hand it over, JoJo.”
I release the giant suitcase and let him take it. Instead, I pick up the duffle, sling it over my shoulder, then grab the plastic tub. He attempts to take the duffle too, but I shake him off this time.
“We’re on the top. There’s an elevator right over there.” He points to the silver doors in the center of the garage.
“Of course there’s an elevator,” I mumble. My old place had an elevator that quit working in the 1970s. So, yeah, there’s that. It’s okay, walking up and down three flights of steps was good for me.
“What’s that?” he says, looking back at me.
“Nothing.”
Inside the elevator, I roll my eyes at how immaculate it is.If only he could have seen the dump I was living in before I lost my job.Once we get all of my stuff in the elevator, he presses the “P” button for penthouse, then types in some numbers on a little keypad above the regular elevator buttons. “The code to get to my place is 0710.”
“First of all… you live in the freaking penthouse?”
He chuckles. “I do.”
“What do the numbers represent?”
He turns to face me. Stepping close, he looks into my eyes. “It’s my birthday. July 10th. When’s yours?”
“February 11th.”
As the doors ding open, he gives me a quick kiss. “We’ll do something special for your birthday. Maybe a little birthday getaway somewhere warm.”
What the hell is he talking about? A birthday getaway? Who does that?
Without commenting on the whole getaway thing, I follow Billy to the left. Using his thumb print to access his door, he turns to me. “I’ll get you programmed in tonight so you can come and go as you please. No need for a key.”
“Nice,” I say with a smile. And it is. I lose my keys a lot.
When he opens the door, he steps aside so I can enter first, but it’s dark.
“Lights on,” he says.
