Page 36 of No Darker Temptation

Alejandro approaches a set of wood and wrought iron doors. Immediately, my mind starts working. Late nineteenth century, intricate scrolling, welded leaves, and an almost floral like pattern in the corners. He pulls out a set of keys from his pocket and unlocks them.

“I acquired the property about a month ago.” He flips an old light switch and a chandelier over the limestone foyer flickers to life. “It’s been abandoned a while.”

“How long?”

“About forty, maybe fifty years. This is the side entrance. Part of the stairs collapsed in the main foyer so it’s safer to enter through here.”

Alejandro’s hand skims the wall in search of another light switch and when he finds it, several other lights beyond the foyer flicker to life. An audible gasp escapes my lips.

Even with its peeling wallpaper, flaking paint, and chipping stone, I can see how beautiful it is. A short antechamber between the door and foyer grants access to the hall where under a double staircase rests flushed against the left and right walls and a tall stone archway leads to what must’ve once been a formal greeting space. There’s a massive, woodburning fireplace covered in cobwebs but I can’t see much beyond that.

I look down at the black and white tiles under decades’ worth of dust. What really takes my breath away is the second-floor gallery. Between the staircases, four stone walls support the glass ceiling two stories above. From the second-floor mezzanine, swooping archways reveal iron gates that shield what looks like a lift from around 1910. I climb up the left staircase, boots slapping against the old floor, and notice that on the adjacent three walls, all forming a perfect square, tinted glass windows look into other parts of the house.

“It used to be a luxury apartment complex. The original architect and his family lived in the apartment at the front of the building and the rest were rented out.”

“How many apartments were there?”

“About ten all varying in size. With the exception of the attic that was used for storage.”

I glide my finger along the stone railing. “It’s remarkable. I can’t believe it’s been vacant for so long.”

“I wanted your opinion,” Alejandro says. “What do you think?”

“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

I’ve never experienced a bigger geek out in my entire life. Through the darkness, I find a hall leading straight to a ballroom.

The roof is in shambles and some of the plaster on the northern wall has deteriorated to expose the brick underneath. But the bones are solid, the floors are intact, and a twelve-tier chandelier hangs above our heads, waiting to be polished and shined. This must’ve been part of the original architect’s apartment.

Alejandro finds a lamp switch but only the sconces on the wall above the fireplace mantle turn on. “Do you like it?”

“Please don’t tell me you guys are going to gut this place.” I meet him across the ballroom and he slips an arm around my waist, drawing me into the warmth of his embrace. “It has so much potential!”

His eyes scan my face in search of something I can’t decipher. “You think?”

“Of course!” I exclaim. My grip on his upper arms tighten. “I’m amazed a place like this exists in such good condition. The crown molding, the stonework, even the lift! I don’t know what the rest of this place looks like but I’m sure it’s equally as beautiful.”

He leans forward and our noses brush. He whispers, “Mi amor, the ceiling is falling.”

“That can get fixed!”

A laugh escapes him.

I press my lips together, shifting my weight between both feet. “I’m sure you already have your own plans for the space.”

He probably wants my input on what should stay and what should go when they renovate. My little heart aches to think of what this building might become—modern apartments, offices, commercial space—but maybe I can help preserve some of its integrity. Starting with the foyer and this ballroom.

“I do, actually.” He watches me closely. “What do you think about living here?”

The initial wave of shock renders me speechless. Each time I open my mouth to respond, nothing comes out.

“Alejandro...”

He reaches into his pocket and holds up a gold key. Takes my hand and drops it into my palm.

“Figured you wouldn’t mind a little restoration project to keep you occupied.”

The metal feels cool against my skin. I can’t process the weight of it in my hand. “You…you bought a house?”