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When the car pulls up to an apartment building in the Financial District, I check the clock on the dashboard. It’s ten past ten. That means I can grab a good six hours of sleep before I have to get up to make it to Sasha’s bakery. It’s going to be a long few weeks if everything goes to plan.
Noah steps from the car, and I race after him with a hurried goodbye to Rupert. He’s already at the bank of elevators when I finally catch up.
“You know, some of us weren’t blessed with long legs,” I snip, annoyed that he keeps walking off without waiting for me.
I can practically feel the frustration roll off of him. It’s very possible that I may have poked the bear one too many times this evening. He can’t say I didn’t give him an out.
He’s only got himself to blame for this weird sense of obligation that he has toward my brother. I’ve never been able to understand it, but it’s there and has been for years.
Noah ignores me. This is going to get real old, real quick.
As we step into the elevator, I turn to give him a piece of my mind but he speaks first, halting any outburst I might have. “Savannah, it’s been a long fucking day and I don’t need you to lecture me about whatever the hell it is you’ve got an issue with. If you want to stay somewhere else, feel free, but it’s going to need to be somewhere better than that rat-infested hovel I’ve just picked you up from. Otherwise, just be grateful and stop trying to look into things that aren’t there. I’m your friend, doing you a favor in your time of need.”
My friend? That’s laughable. Since when did I become his friend?
Don’t friends usually hang out? All the times I was shut out or told I was too young to hang out with him and Jack come at me full force.
To me, that doesn’t scream friendship. Friends don’t tell you to go away, or laugh at you before shutting the door in your face.
No, Noah Parker is not my friend. I’ve never seen him as a friend and I’m not about to start now. I’m going to keep to myself and get that deposit saved as quickly as possible so things can go back to how they used to be. Even if it means cutting back on some of the very few luxuries I afford myself like my dance lessons or that weekly Starbucks I’ve become accustomed to.
I don’t bother replying to him. What would be the point? We spend the rest of the ride to the thirtieth floor with the gentle murmur of the elevator as the only sound.
When we arrive on his floor, the doors open to a dark corridor, lit only by mood lighting next to each apartment door. The walls are a muted gray and the dark beige carpet much more luxurious than the one at the hotel.
A strange sense of anticipation fills my body as I follow Noah to the door at the end of the corridor. There are only five doors on this floor, with none of them near his. I assume that means he has the biggest apartment on the floor.
I guess I’ll find out soon enough.
I’ve never met Sutton before, mainly because, for the last seven years I haven’t been as close to Noah as I once was. Not that we were ever that close, but I would at least see him for the holidays.
My curiosity is piqued and a burning desire to know what she’s like and what it is about her that he loves fills me.
Noah unlocks the door and steps over the threshold, depositing my luggage next to the table to his right before he removes his suit jacket, throwing it over his arm.
When he steps aside, a woman with long brown hair that falls in waves over her shoulders comes into view. She’s standing next to the TV that’s hanging between the floor to ceiling windows, as she looks out over the city.
My attention moves around the room taking in the furniture and low lighting. I can’t quite make out the color of the couch but I do know it’s dark and looks like a cloud. Accent cushions cover it and I immediately know that it’s not something Noah would have done. Maybe it’s a Sutton touch.
There isn’t much in the open plan space in terms of personal effects. On the right side of the room I spy a mahogany sideboard with candles and picture frames adorning it. I can’t make out who is in them, but I’d like to imagine it’s at least Noah and Sutton.
A large dark round dining room table takes up the rest of that end of the room. I can’t quite picture Noah—from the guy I knew—being the type to hold dinner parties.
The kitchen is visible through an archway. It looks brand new. From the front door I can just about make out the cabinets lining the walls, the gleaming refrigerator and kitchen island.
Why is everything so dark in here?
My gaze shifts back to the woman in front of me, watching her every move. There’s an air of sadness about her, but when she turns around it’s like she hides it away, forcing a welcoming smile onto her lips.
Sutton is stunning and the complete opposite of me. Mama would whop me upside the head if she heard me comparing myself to another woman, even in my own mind. She’s always told me that comparing myself to another person is like trying to compare two snowflakes; we’re naturally different. Sutton is tall and elegant, and when she walks toward me a warmth radiates from her. She holds out a delicate hand, her equally delicate features coated in a mask of sympathy mixed with friendliness.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Savannah. Jack…” At the mention of my brother's name, a rosy glow fills her cheeks. That’s interesting. “Well, Jack’s told me so much about you. I feel like we’re already best friends. We missed you at his going away party. I just wish we were meeting for the first time under better circumstances.”
Taking her hand in mine, I give it a brief shake as I reply, “You and me both, Sutton.” An awkwardness surrounds the three of us, and I’m certain it’s to do with my presence. Picking up my suitcase, I turn to Sutton and say, “I am pooped and have to be up early. Would you mind pointing me in the direction of my room?”
“Of course, come. I’ve put some fresh sheets on the bed. We’ve got you a key, so you can come and go as you please. And help yourself to anything in the morning. We have some granola and yogurt in the fridge.”
She’s as pretty as a peach and nice to boot.
