AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her long brown hair falls to mid-torso, and it’s tousled, tangled, and in desperate need of a comb. My eyes drift to her face. She seems pleasant enough. She has bright blue eyes and her plump cheeks have me thinking of chipmunks. Anica Kasan is also tiny, which doesn’t help the chipmunk comparison. She can’t be over five two or three. At six feet, I tower over her. This is going to be like living with a little mouse.
“Mr. Brooks Westerhaven,” she breathes, awkwardly holding out a dainty little hand. “I apologize for my appearance. I’ve come straight from the airport and haven’t had a chance to freshen up.”
Taking her small hand in mine, I duly shake it, but I’m pleasantly surprised by her voice. Honestly, given her teeny tiny, chipmunk-y appearance, I expected a squeaky little voice that would grate on my nerves. Instead, Anica Kasan has a low, warm timbre in her voice. The kind of voice you’d like to hear recite facts at a boring property conference to keep you paying attention.
All three of us turn at the sound of the door opening. Anica startles, her hand jerking out of mine as a suited man, no doubt Cathy’s town car driver, deposits her luggage inside my front door. I bite back a chuckle at her look of shock. Apparently, I’m not the only one surprised by her accommodation arrangements. I guess no one bothered to tell her she’ll be living here.
“I hope that you’ll be relaxed here. I intend to make sure you have every comfort,” I assure her, aware that Cathy is still here and will no doubt report back to Uncle Bill every word that is spoken. It’s why I’m on my best behavior. Hell, I even wore a suit for this damn thing. I thought it best to treat it like a work meeting. Which it is.
“I, uh… I’m stayinghere?”
There it is. A tiny squeak on her last word and I’m definitely trying not to smirk. Rather than being irritating, her little squeak was more amusing. Instead of a smirk, I offer what I hope is a pleasant smile.
“Of course. Uncle Bill thought it would be the best way for you to get to know my personality. For the design project?”
Anica stares at me, nodding slowly. I think she might still be processing her shock. Her eyes are wide, darting around the main living area again, lingering on the view out the feature windows. She jumps when Cathy speaks in her bright tone.
“Well, I’ll leave you to get settled in Ani,” she beams, moving to hug the designer tightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow at Haven Property’s offices. You’ll have to tell me all about your first night in New York. I want to know if you go nightclubbing!”
With a cheery wave, Cathy pats Anica’s arm and leaves, accompanying the driver back out of the penthouse, shutting the front door tightly behind them. My eyes drift over Anica’s form again. She doesn’t really look like the nightclubbing type.
I wait expectantly, but she doesn’t speak, or even really look at me again. Her wide blue eyes are still taking in my penthouse furnishings. Though her eyes occasionally dart toward me, it’s more like she’s making sure that I haven’t melted into the air like some sort of apparition.
Well, we could stand in excruciating silence for a while longer, or we could get this over with. Huffing a sigh, I cross to the door to grab both her suitcases. My movement lights a fire underneath her. She moves as well, grabbing at the slender portfolio bag, and trailing me through the penthouse to the guest bedroom set up for her.
I might as well give her a tour on the way, so she can find everything. I like the idea of a strange woman accidentally snooping around my home even less than I like her living here.
Anica
Sadly, we turn our backs on the jaw-dropping view, and Mr. Brooks Westerhaven leads me past the kitchen area, into a narrower space.
“My room,” he grunts, jerking his head to the right, where a hallway curves off. To our left are some stairs leading upward, but he says nothing about them. We cross through an arch and the ceilings in this part of the condo are lower, giving it a cozier feel.
“Main bathroom.” He jerks his head to the right again as we pass another closed door. “Guest bedroom,” is over to the right, in a corner. “Office,” is directly in front of us.
Finally, he leads me around to the left, along another hallway.
“Your room.” His head jerks to the right, “and your bathroom.” It jerks to the left. I have my own bathroom, that isn’t the main bathroom. How fancy.
He’s much less verbose now we’re alone. I wonder if he’s feeling as awkward as I am that I’m going to be staying in hishome. Mr. Brooks Westerhaven turns the handle on my bedroom door, shoving my suitcases inside, and looks at me. Again, his eyes drift over my outfit and my cheeks heat. Looking at him in his sharp suit, I really wish I went for style over comfort on the flight.
“No doubt you’d like to freshen up. After your flight,” he drawls. My cheeks flame. Wow. That was… direct. I suppose it was his way of telling me I look terrible. Thanks for that.
“Once you’re ready, I’ll meet you upstairs for drinks before dinner,” he continues, nodding to me and stalking off, back around the corner, where a door opens and closes. So. Awkward.
Turning back to my bedroom, I start forward eagerly. With Mr. Brooks Westerhaven gone, I’m back to feeling excited. This is going to be my bedroom for the “foreseeable future”, in the middle of New York City! Maybe I’ll do that thing where people throw themselves on the bed. Like in the movies.
But when I walk in, I forget about clichéd movie tropes. This is probably the smallest bedroom in this magical place. It’s certainly tucked away as far as possible from the rest of the condo as he can put me. But it suits me fine. My eyes dart around the room. This isperfect. Quietly, I close the door behind me and stare about in absolute delight.
The small, cozy room has the same white walls and ceiling as the rest of the condo. And the same pine colored hardwood floors. Across from the door, almost the entire wall is taken up by a large window, which is framed by floor length long white curtains.
The window showcases a view of New York, looking away from Central Park, which is at the opposite end of the condo. I can see the tops of some buildings spread out away from me, and so much blue sky. That will be heavenly to wake up to in the morning.
The room is dominated by a large bed, probably queen-sized, which has white sheets and pillows. Though there is a singlebright yellow throw pillow, and a fluffy, pink and blue throw over the end of the bed to save it from being white on white. I don’t know if Mr. Brooks Westerhaven designed this place, or had someone do it for him, but whoever it was, knew what they were doing.
Setting my purse on the bed, my eyes linger on the wall above the head of the bed, where a series of six colorful, abstract canvas paintings hang. I could seriously get behind the art in this place. It rivals the incredible views, which is no easy feat.
On the wall across from the foot of the bed is a framed abstract print in various shades of gray. There is a large potted fern in the corner to add another splash of color, next to a comfortable, Scandinavian-style easy chair. A built-in closet with a white sliding door and a mirrored one is beside the door, and I move to open them, hefting my first suitcase onto the bed to unpack.
