THREE #2
“Wow, the views alone will sell this place.” Michael stepped into the small foyer, immediately pulling his camera out of his shoulder bag.
He adjusted the lens and began snapping photos of the pink and yellow sky as the sun set over the East River.
“Once these are listed, your inbox is going to be flooded.”
Hayley had to admit that the space left her feeling a little breathless too. It was stunning.
The open-concept kitchen and living room area unfurled against a backdrop of the Manhattan skyline shimmering across the river. Floor-to-ceiling glass turned the entire cityscape into a living, breathing mural, perfectly framed from every angle.
The three-thousand-square-foot condo was immaculate. Crisp white walls provided a stark canvas for the darker, more dramatic furniture that Hayley had hand-selected for staging. A single commanding piece of artwork consumed seventy percent of one wall, exploding with color and anchoring the space.
In the kitchen, a massive island stood at the center. Its light wood base contrasted elegantly with a crown of sleek black marble. In the natural light, the rock glowed as if it were molten.
They continued down the hallway, where all three bedrooms and three-and-a-half bathrooms were tucked away, each offering a unique vantage point of the Brooklyn Bridge stretching out across the water.
But the true prize, and undeniably Hayley’s favorite part, was the expansive balcony running the full length of the penthouse.
Outfitted with plush lounge chairs and a generous dining table perfect for entertaining, the space boasted an uninterrupted view of the landscape.
To wake up to that panorama every day, regardless of the weather, would be an absolute dream.
Once Michael was satisfied with his photos, Hayley locked up the condo, and the two worked their way down through the other three floors. Michael snapped pictures of each home, and once all seven spaces were photographed to his standard of perfection, they exited the building.
“I’ll upload these tonight and send over the files tomorrow,” Michael promised as they stepped onto the sidewalk. “What are you up to now?”
Hayley checked the time on her Cartier watch. Eight o’clock exactly. “I’ll probably find somewhere nearby to grab dinner. I find it’s better to wait out traffic than to sit in gridlock on the bridge. Care to join?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Michael held out his elbow for Hayley, and the two strolled down the street.
They ended up in a cozy neighborhood spot that embodied Brooklyn’s hipster charm. Hayley had been there before, and she knew that neither the food nor the drinks would disappoint.
Every seat at the long wooden bar had already been taken, so they settled for a booth tucked against the brick wall in the back. As they slid into opposite black leather benches, a server appeared to take their drink orders.
“So, where are you off to next?” Hayley asked.
Michael had always gravitated toward projects that took him around the world.
Ever since he first picked up a Polaroid camera as a kid, he’d been snapping photos of Hayley and their friends on the playground.
By high school, he was helping her dad with real estate shoots, learning how to frame a room just as naturally as he’d learned to frame a face.
But his true passion was music. Michael was known to chase festivals and concerts across continents, capturing artists mid-crescendo and their fans lost in the moment.
She admired him for it—the fearless way he lived his life to the fullest.
“I’m headed to the UK next week. I’ll be shooting the main stage at Glastonbury.” Michael took a sip of his beer. “It’s gonna be massive. But it’s on some farm in the English countryside in the middle of nowhere, so I’ll have to camp out with the other two-hundred-thousand people for a few days.”
“There isn’t enough money in the world to get me into a tent for even an hour.” Hayley offered a wry smirk.
“Oh, believe me, I know. Don’t you remember the summer when we were thirteen, and our parents took us camping at Dater Mountain Nature Park? It was their so-called ‘gift’ to us after we graduated from middle school.”
“Oh my God,” Hayley gasped as the buried memory hit her. “That was the worst idea they’d ever had.”
“You wouldn’t even leave the truck. Both our brothers tried dragging you out by your feet.” Michael laughed, the sound cutting off his words for a second. “You were screaming, holding onto the steering wheel for dear life.”
“Please don’t remind me. I’m still scarred from when we caught my parents making out and groping each other down by the lake.”
Michael wagged his eyebrows, and Hayley tossed her crumpled napkin at him.
“So, how are you? Seriously.” Michael gently laid his hand on top of Hayley’s.
While the two could joke endlessly, Michael was one of the few who could also see Hayley’s wounds.
He had been the only person to show up for her, over and over again, when the weight of the world felt too heavy to bear.
He witnessed her pain, even when she was so careful to keep it hidden from the rest of her family.
Even now, as he chased his dreams across the globe, Michael always made a point to check in on her.
“I’m fine.” Hayley’s voice cracked on the last word.
Michael narrowed his eyes, his lips pursed.
“I’m…” Hayley tried again. “I don’t know.” She sighed, deciding to go with the most honest answer.
Michael cocked his head, waiting for an explanation.
Hayley wasn’t sure what else to say. Since graduating from college, she’d been thriving in the same comfortable routine day after day. None of that had changed, so why did she suddenly feel so unsteady?
Her eyes wandered around the restaurant as she tried to find the right words. The front door opened, and a gust of fresh air drew her attention. A blonde woman stood in the doorway, her long silken hair the exact same color as…
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Hayley’s chest tightened.
“And who might that be?” Michael asked, following her gaze.
“No one.” Hayley threw back the rest of her scotch and looked down at the empty glass, wishing it would refill itself.
Heat prickled up the back of her neck. Of all the bars in New York City, how had Maddie managed to find the one that Hayley now sat in?
And she wasn’t alone.
“Oh, come on.” Michael scrutinized her face before declaring, “You haven’t slept with her, but you want to.”
Unbidden, Hayley’s eyes flickered again toward Maddie, then back to Michael, whose lips quirked up at the edges.
“Am I right?”
“Her name is Madison,” Hayley conceded. “She’s Caitlin’s best friend.”