Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Trina
On the walk back to my building, I call Callie but get her voicemail. I really wanted to talk to her about Asher, but it’s probably better if I do it later, after I’ve had time to think about this. I’m sure Callie will tell me not to give him a second chance, but I don’t feel ready to cut him out of my life.
As I go into the building, I see Bridget coming out of Scott’s apartment holding a small leather duffle bag. Did she spend the night there?
“Hi,” she says, smiling at me as we pass in the hall. I don’t think she recognized me, but that’s understandable. I looked pretty bad when she saw me at the grocery store. Today, I did my hair and makeup and am wearing my nicest pair of black pants, a fitted white t-shirt, and a caramel-colored leather jacket. I wanted to look good for my meeting with Asher.
“Hey, Bridget!” Scott says, coming out of his apartment.
“She already left,” I say, going past him.
“Trina, wait.”
I turn back. “What?”
He glances at my body, then up at my face. “You look great. Did you have a job interview?”
“No, I just met someone for coffee.” I glance at the door Bridget just went out. “So I see you’re back with Bridget.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw her leaving your place with her overnight bag.”
He laughs a little. “That wasn’t an overnight bag. She had samples in there. She brought them over to show me.”
“Samples of what?”
“The packaging for her hair products.”
“Hair products?”
“Bridget’s developing a line of plant-based hair products. The original packaging didn’t test well so she’s having it redesigned. She was here to show me the options.”
“Bridget makes hair products?” I ask, wondering if he’s making this up.
“She’s a chemist, or she was before she quit to start her own business.”
Bridget’s a chemist? I never would’ve guessed that. She looks more like a model than a chemist, but I guess I don’t really know what a chemist looks like.
“Bridget didn’t spend the night here,” Scott says. “Not that I owe you an explanation. But since you keep making assumptions about what goes on in my apartment, I thought you should know the truth.”
“But you two are still… special friends?”
“Special friends?” He smiles. “What do you mean by that?”
“You know what I mean,” I say, my pulse picking up as he steps closer to me. He’s so good-looking it’s not even fair. I really love his smile. It’s way better than Asher’s, which always seems forced. Asher’s very serious so smiling doesn’t come naturally to him.
“Bridget and I are no longer special friends,” he says, emphasizing the word special. “But we’ll still remain regular friends.”
“Is that because you have new special friends? I saw those two girls here yesterday.”
“Are you spying on me?” He folds his arms over his chest. “Keeping track of who comes and goes from my apartment?”
“No. I was just going down the hall and ran into them. They were both really pretty.”
“Yes, they’re very attractive.”
I wait for him to tell me more, but he doesn’t. He’s just staring at me, a smug grin on his face, knowing I want to know who those girls were but refusing to tell me. I’m usually not a nosy person, but I seem to be with Scott. I’m not sure why.
Cole appears, coming off the elevator.
“Cole.” I head over to him. “I’m having a problem with my shower. The water’s barely coming out. I think the shower head’s clogged.”
“Jenna was saying that too.” He looks over at Scott. “You want to take a look at it? I can’t right now. I’m heading to an appointment. Not sure when I’ll be back.”
“Yeah, I’ll check it out.”
Why would Scott look at my shower? He’s not the property manager.
“See you guys later,” Cole says, going out the door.
“You want me to look at it now or later?” Scott asks as I walk back to him.
“I don’t get it. Why would you look at my shower?”
“To figure out what’s wrong with it. I think you need a new shower head.”
“But you can’t decide that. Cole’s the property manager. He needs to look at it and then talk to whoever owns the building about fixing it.”
“Trust me. I can take care of this.” He heads to my apartment. “Let’s go check it out.”
I don’t know why he’s doing this. Maybe he has plumbing skills he hasn’t told me about?
We go into my apartment and Scott walks over to where my pool float used to be.
“How was the floor last night?” he asks. “You get any sleep?”
“A few hours.”
“You need more than a few hours.”
I know that, but it’s hard to sleep on the floor when you’re used to sleeping in a comfortable bed. And I was worried about rats attacking me in my sleep, which also kept me awake. I guess the rats could climb on a bed, but they’re more likely to get to me on the floor.
“Do you have rats?” I ask, thinking if he had them at his place, I’d have them at mine.
“Rats?” He laughs. “How’d we get on the topic of rats?”
“When you were saying I need to sleep. Part of the reason I can’t is because I’m worried about rats climbing on me.”
“You have a very interesting mind, Trina.”
“Just answer the question. Has your apartment ever had rats?”
“No, but the storage unit next to you has. It’s because it’s close to the door that goes to the alley.”
“But so is my apartment, which means rats could be getting in.” I search the floor for them, thinking they could be hiding in my piles of clothes. “Do I need to get traps?”
“Maybe, or I could just put a few in the hall and around the door.”
“Would you?” I race up to him. “Because I’d feel a lot better if you did. I’ll pay you for whatever the traps cost.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. Let’s go look at the shower.”
We head to the bathroom, but only one of us will fit in it so I stay behind while Scott goes in. He turns the shower on and the water trickles out in a thin stream.
“Yeah, you need a new shower head,” he says. “It’s too clogged to try to clean it.” He comes out of the bathroom. “I’ll call Cole and have him pick one up. If he has time, maybe he could install it tonight.”
“Okay, what is going on here? Why would you call Cole about this? Are you both working for the guy who owns the building?”
He smiles. “You haven’t figured it out?”
“Figured what out?”
“I own the building. Cole works for me.”
“Wait—what?” I stare at him, trying to tell if he’s joking. “You don’t own the building. You can’t.”
“Why can’t I?”
“Because you’re like twenty-something years old.”
“Twenty-nine.”
“That’s too young to own a building, especially in New York. This place would’ve cost a fortune, unless… did you inherit it?”
“No. I bought it. Two years ago.”
“You bought this building two years ago,” I say, confirming that’s what he said. “When you were only 27.”
“Yeah. I got a deal because I paid cash.”
“Okay, hold on. Are you like a trust fund kid? Are your parents millionaires?”
“Not even close. My dad’s an electrician and my mom’s a teacher.”
“And what are you? You never told me what you do.”
“I’m a lawyer.”
“A lawyer,” I repeat, trying to imagine him in a courtroom. He’s so good-looking it’d be distracting for a jury, at least for the women on it. I bet he looks really good in a suit.
“I worked at a law firm for a few months, but it wasn’t for me.”
“Did you work on criminal cases?”
“It wasn’t that kind of firm. We specialized in start-ups. Doing legal work for companies that were just starting out. Mostly tech companies. This was when I lived in California. Silicon Valley. I went to college out there and got a job offer before I even graduated.”
Wow, he must be really smart. Why did I think he wasn’t? Maybe because he’s so hot. It’s not very often you find a really hot guy who’s also really smart. Asher’s smart, but just average looking, or maybe above average, but definitely not on the hotness level of Scott.
“And you made enough money to buy this building?” I ask.
“The money was from my company. I started it in college, it did well, and I sold it.”
“What’s the company?”
“The one that makes the pool float I gave you. I was tired of inflatable stuff always leaking air and having to be thrown out, so I found a guy who knows plastics and we came up with an almost indestructible material to replace what’s typically used. My first product was an inflatable chair. I tested it out at parties around campus. I figured if it could survive a frat party, I might be on to something. And I was. I only lost one chair out of a hundred and that’s only because this drunk guy was throwing darts at it. Anyway, I got the funding, set up the manufacturing, did the sales and marketing, and it took off.”
“But then you sold it? You didn’t want to keep the company?”
“I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life making inflatable furniture. I’d done the fun part, which was getting the company up and running. After that, I was ready to do something else.”
“So that’s why you had the pool float. Because it’s from your company.”
“Former company, but yeah, the owners are always sending me stuff, asking me what I think. That pool float I gave you came out last summer.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that when I asked why you had it?”
“I didn’t think it needed an explanation. Besides, you’d already decided why I had it and you seemed pretty convinced you were right.”
“You still should’ve told me.”
He smiles. “I kind of liked your sex float theory better than the truth. Cole was right when he said it was a good idea. Unfortunately, I can’t imagine the new owners wanting to expand the business to sex products.”
“Can we just forget that I said that?” I say, feeling my face getting warm.
“Definitely not. That story’s gonna live on long after you’ve moved out of here.”
“Great,” I mutter. “So what are you doing now? Do you work?”
“I do consulting for startups. I help with all the legal work and some of the financials. And if they want, I’ll give them input on their ideas. Point out any potential problems.”
“Where’s your office?”
“Next door. I work out of my apartment. That’s why people are always coming and going. Like Bridget. She was one of my first clients. And those girls you saw on Sunday have a candle business. They want to expand it and get distribution in stores.”
So he wasn’t sleeping with them. I had it totally wrong. But how was I to know he was helping them with their business?
“How’d you end up here? From California?”
“I’ve always wanted to live in New York, and I saw a need. Silicon Valley has an endless amount of support for startups, but there isn’t as much out here. I’ve got a waiting list of people wanting my help, but I only take the ones that are really struggling financially. I bill at a low rate because I want to see these small businesses do well.”
“Why did you buy this building? You could’ve just bought an apartment.”
“I wanted people to have a cheap place to live. Most of the tenants here are trying to start a business, which means they’re making little to no money. I keep the rent cheap so they can afford to live here while they work on their company.”
As he’s telling me this, all I can think about is how wrong I was about him. I thought he was some immature party boy, but he’s actually a lawyer who owns a building and helps people. I feel kind of bad for calling him a jerk. He’s actually a nice guy.