CHAPTER 15
Following the instructions India had provided, Maisie pulled up to the building and turned into the parking garage. There, she was met by a man in a red-and-black uniform, who opened her car door for her.
“Hello. Miss Lincoln?”
“How did you–”
“Miss Sheridan alerted me to your arrival. May I park your car for you in one of our guest spots? Miss Sheridan just called down, and she would like you to come up, if that’s all right.”
“Oh. You park my car for me?”
“I can, yes,” the man replied with a kind smile.
“Sorry. I’m from this city; born and raised. I’ve never heard of an apartment offering valet parking.”
The man laughed and said, “These are condos, Ma’am. The valet service, along with the other perks, come with the purchase and condo fees.”
“Oh, right,” she said. “So, you’re not going to steal my car?”
“No, Ma’am.” He laughed again as she shook his head. “My name is Justin. I assure you, this is normal, but if you’re worried, you can look up and see there are security cameras all over this place. My boss is sitting behind a desk in there, probably watching this whole exchange.”
Maisie nodded but was still hesitant.
“If you just point me in the right direction, I can park it myself.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Justin replied and motioned with an open hand. “If you follow me, I can show you the spot.”
“Thanks,” she said before Justin closed her door.
Maisie felt a little out of place here and still wasn’t sure that this guy was telling her the truth.
Paige had once had her car stolen and stripped for parts when she’d trusted a valet at a bar in the city.
That bar hadn’t offered valet service, and Paige had paid the price for her trust. Maisie wasn’t about to lose her car to some guy who had bought a uniform online and pretended to be a condo valet, which she didn’t know was a thing.
Justin showed her to the parking spot, and she got out of the car and followed him to the glass door that led to the lobby, which was decorated in golds and reds, almost like an old, fancy hotel that she’d seen in movies.
Her apartment didn’t even have a lobby. It had a staircase with a row of mailboxes to the left, and that was about it.
“Right this way,” Justin said, opening the door for her.
Maisie followed him to the bank of three elevators, and he pressed the call button.
The elevator arrived instantly because, of course, it did, and Justin pressed the floor button on the inside for her as well before wishing her a good night and letting the door close between them.
Maisie got off when the doors opened to the carpets that were still red, but there was no more gold, outside of the sconces that had lightbulbs that emulated the city’s famed gaslit lanterns.
She found India’s number on a door and knocked.
When nothing happened after a minute, she knocked again.
The door opened a few seconds after that, and India stood there, both hands at her ear, putting on a gold hoop earring.
“Hi. Sorry, I’m running a little behind,” India told her. “I got home later than I thought I would. Did you really park your own car down there? Justin just rang up here saying that you did.”
“He called you?”
“Yes, to tell me that you were here. They’ll park your car, Maisie. Come on in. I just need a minute. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Before we go out for a drink?” she asked, walking in.
“Oh, right,” India said as she finished with her earring and closed the door behind her. “I meant maybe water or tea or something. I have coffee. I can make you a cappuccino, if you want, or a caramel latte.”
Maisie finally took a look around then. The condo had a foyer, so she couldn’t see much.
There was a coatrack next to the door, along with a skinny table with what looked to be fresh flowers in a vase on top of it and a small dish where Maisie saw India’s keys and a couple of other knickknacks.
The walls were a deep burgundy, and there was crown molding.
“I can give you a quick tour with that coffee if you want,” India offered.
“Um… Okay,” Maisie said.
“So, the bathroom is here.” India pointed to a closed door, which she then opened. “It’s not the main guest bathroom, so it’s a half-bath.”
“How many bathrooms do you have?”
“Three,” India said. “And three bedrooms,” she added. “I also have a small den that I use as an at-home office. I just added it on this past year, actually, along with a jacuzzi tub in the master bath.”
“You have a jacuzzi tub?”
“I do.” India smiled. “I’ll show you. Come on.” India reached for and took Maisie’s hand. “You really had to park your own car?” she asked with a smile.
“I didn’t know that guy.”
“That’s Justin. He’s worked here for years.”
“You know Justin. I didn’t.”
“Did he not greet you by name?” India asked. “I told him you’d be here.”
Maisie followed India into the main part of the condo, which was larger than Maisie’s entire apartment and probably the apartment next to it, too.
“You said this place was nice, but not super fancy.”
“It’s not super fancy.”
“That looks like pretty fancy art on the walls, India.”
India laughed softly and said, “Yes, it is. It’s a Georgia O’Keeffe.”
“A print, right?”
“Uh… No. It’s the original.”
“What?” Maisie asked.
“I bought it at an auction a few years ago. I was going to loan it to a museum, but I fell in love with it.”
“You just have an original Georgia O’Keeffe painting in your house?”
“My family is big in the arts. It’s pretty common. The rest are prints, though.” India motioned around the room to the other paintings on the wall. “Can I get you that latte?”
“We’re going out for drinks,” Maisie replied.
“I know, but I still need to get dressed.”
“I think I would’ve noticed if you weren’t dressed, India. Trust me, I definitely would’ve said something had you answered the door naked.”
India laughed and replied, “I’m still in my work clothes, Maise. I got home late. I just put on earrings, but I still need to change.”
“You look great,” Maisie told her.
India smiled and replied, “I look like I worked in these clothes all day. There are wrinkles, Maisie. I don’t want to go out with wrinkles.”
“Will you dress casually? Do you even have casual wear?”
“I have jeans. Does that count?”
“I don’t know. Are they eight-hundred-dollar jeans?”
“I think they were two hundred dollars, but I don’t remember.”
“You spent two hundred dollars on jeans? Why? Do they burn calories for you when you wear them?”
“I think they make my ass look great,” India said with a shrug. “Want to see?”
Maisie nodded slowly and replied, “Yes, I’d like to see that.”
“Give me twenty minutes? Okay. Maybe thirty.”
India leaned over and kissed Maisie on the cheek.
“Thirty minutes?!”
“Want that latte now?” India asked with a smile.
“Yes, damn it,” Maisie said through laughter.
“Okay. Well, let me show you the kitchen.”
India took her hand again and walked them down a hall and into the kitchen, which was a wide-open space that was possibly, just on its own, bigger than Maisie’s apartment.
“The espresso machine is pretty easy,” India said.
“Milk is in the fridge. Just grind the beans with the grinder here.” She pointed to a small grinder.
“I didn’t want the machine that does it for you because this grinder is way better.
Anyway… Grind, put it in the machine, and press this.
” India pointed to a button. “Then, this and that one.” She pointed to two more buttons.
“Here’s the steamer cup for the milk. Just add how much you want in there and use the steamer wand.
It’ll shut off on its own when it’s done.
Syrups are here.” India pulled open a cabinet, and there were at least ten different coffee syrups on the shelf.
“Caramel is up front because I like it, too, but use whatever you want. I’ll be right back, okay? ”
India kissed Maisie’s cheek again and hurried off, leaving her in the kitchen to try to figure out what had just happened.
It seemed simple enough, but this machine looked like it cost more than Maisie’s car.
She tried to remember the order of everything and started by grinding the beans she saw in the glass container on the counter.
Once done with that, she put the now-ground beans into the machine and pressed the buttons, but she’d not put a cup under the nozzle first because India hadn’t mentioned that part.
“Oh, shit,” she said as espresso began running down into the drain.
She quickly opened cabinet after cabinet until she found a coffee cup and put it under the nozzle, managing to catch at least half of the espresso.
Then, she got the milk out of the fridge, added some to the stainless-steel container, put it under the steamer wand, and pressed the button.
It turned out, the wand hadn’t been fully in the milk, though, so the pressurized air aimed down at the milk shot a bunch of it into the air and all over her face and shirt.
“Shit!” Maisie said, pushing the wand into the milk to let it steam.
“What’s wrong?” India asked, running into the kitchen, wearing a pair of jeans and a bra, but she at least had a shirt in her hands, covering her chest.
“I–”
“You didn’t check that the wand was all the way in, did you?” India laughed a little.
“Why is your coffee machine so complicated?”
“I work for a coffee company. I like good coffee,” India said and reached for a rag on the counter. “Here, babe.” She wiped Maisie’s face. “You look cute with milk all over your face.”
“That’s a weird thing to say on a first date,” Maisie replied. “And my shirt is going to smell like milk all night.”
India finished with Maisie’s face and dropped the rag to the counter. She was still holding a shirt to her chest, but she reached for Maisie’s with her free hand.
“Off,” she said.
“At least buy me dinner first,” Maisie joked.
“Take the shirt off,” India said, laughing.