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Taylor is the brand name for pork roll.
Pork roll is the most epic type of breakfast meat there is. The closest thing I can compare it to for you is Canadian Bacon, but better.
It’s a New Jersey thing I picked up when Peyton lived there.
Anyway, I then proceeded to spill the entire coffee on the sidewalk as I left the deli.
Basically… by eight in the morning, my day was shot to shit.
A ticking time bomb if you will.
After my morning, I expected the day to explode in my face. However, it went relatively smooth. Everything was on time that needed to be. Marc was in the Staten Island office all day. The computers worked great and nothing backfired on me.
Hell yeah.
I had to know that it would be short lived, though… because after I got ready to head to Marc's penthouse for dinner with Bill and Cathy, my car decided it was an excellent time to not start. The fucking battery was dead. When I called Marc to tell him I’d be late, he said “Don’t worry about it. I’m sending Fred right now.”
As if Freddy could teleport to me, he was at my house in ten minutes. Does he have a special pass that he can fly through traffic lights and clear the streets? Because there’s no way that he could make it across town that fast for me.
Clearly, I’m just in a fired up mood today.
That’s why I’m currently standing in the lobby of Sunset Square, taking a few moments to steady my breathing. A little bit of woosah if you will.
Of course, Marc lives in the same luxury condo building that Thomas used to live in. This place is legit nicer than the Ritz-Carlton. The entire building is set up so that only one side of it has the windows. The side that’s facing the direction of the sunset. You get the most amazing views in the evening.
My breathing finally calms down, and I adjust my mood from feisty to a little more calm, cool and collected.
This day has already been total shit, so what’s in store for tonight, Universe?
Unlike Thomas, Marc’s entrance is accessible via the regular elevator, while Thomas has some back door, hide-and-seek entrance hidden past the employee lounge. I take the elevator up to the very top floor as nervous energy dances around my stomach, because of course that’s where his place would be.
Only the two Ford brothers would live in the only two penthouses in this place.
My hand isn’t even on the door to knock before it swings open.
“Avery.”
His eyes scan me up and down. An approving grin forms on his face and I can tell he approves of my outfit. I went with a pair of form fitting dress pants simply because I wanted to wear something as close to yoga pants as I could find. Marc said jeans would be fine but… fuck jeans. I paired it with a floral, form fitting blouse. The outfit screams comfortable, but also acceptable for guests coming over for a nice dinner.
Since you know… I live here and all.
“Does this look okay?” I’m still standing in the hallway when I put my arms out.
His head is already bobbing up and down before he says, “It’s perfect, Ave.”
“Are you going to let me into my new home, boss man?”
Marc waves his hand as he steps to the side to let me enter. He doesn’t reply, but the grin hasn’t left his face since he opened the door. I bite my lip to fight off the smile that I’m trying to hide. And then I’m left utterly speechlesswhen I take in the view of his penthouse.
It’snothinglike Thomas’. It’s a little smaller, but has even more windows and a more open layout. The living room and kitchen all mesh together, making it a perfect spot for hosting a party, if he has them. You know the heart of any gathering in a home is in the kitchen.
“This place is…” My words fall short because it is truly so beyond perfect.
“It’s a little too much for just me.”
“You could say that again.” My eyes are still scanning the massive wide open view. My feet take me to the windows as I look out and stare at the start of what will be a beautiful sunset sometime within the next hour overlooking Central Park.
“God, it’s breathtaking,” I murmur to myself.
