Bad Boy Brody(98)

My throat closed. The tears were coming, and I had to shut them down. “Yeah, but downtown?” I murmured, my throat raw. “That’s a big change.”

“It’d be amazing. You’d live three blocks from here. I’m here all the time, and my place isn’t far away either. You can cab that easily.” Her eyes were wide and pleading. “Please tell me you’ll call. Do it! Dooo it.”

I glanced back to the number. “What if this is some elaborate scheme to trap people and kill them? You said it yourself: you don’t know who owns the building. It could be the Russian mob,” I teased.

“Even better!” She rolled her eyes and dismissed that with a wave. “Come on, if it was the Russian mob, I would’ve heard about that. Besides, I heard one of the residents is the CEO of Grove Banking.”

“The CEO?”

“It’s his place in the city.”

“Oh.” Coming downtown was such a hassle. I loved seeing Sia, but I hated coming here as much as I did. But actually living here…

I’d dodge all the parking and traffic. There was something peaceful about living among the finest restaurants, museums, shopping and so much more. And although things were busy during the workday, I knew there were also times when it was quiet. After hours, it was a sanctuary within one of the most active metropolitan areas in the country. “It’ll be so expensive.”

“Your inheritance from Liam is ridiculous. You’ll be comfortable for the rest of your life.”

Yes, my inheritance was ridiculous—but not because it was twenty million dollars, because I’d never known about it. Liam had never told me. In fact, he’d kept all sorts of secrets. I hadn’t known about the wealth until his family told me at his funeral, begrudgingly. I knew his mother had hated doing it. His grandmother had been a household name, as she’d invented a popular kitchen utensil.

I still couldn’t believe it, even though the money had been transferred to my bank account. Most days, Sia was the one who reminded me about it. I had done okay as a freelance writer before he died, enough to have a small nest egg, but I’d had to dip into his inheritance over the last year. Just a bit, but I’d have to dip into it more for that place.

“I’ll call.” Sia took the piece of paper from me. “I’ll set it up. We’ll go together to see it. You won’t be alone, and that way I get to see inside that glorious piece of heaven. You can decide afterwards.”

I gave her a rueful look. If I saw it, and it was gorgeous, I’d probably want it. I liked to live simply, but I did appreciate beauty. And evidently I could afford it.

I sighed. “Okay. Call and set it up.”

She grabbed my arm with both hands. “Oh my God! I’m so excited!” She yanked me to her, but the movement caused her hair to scoot forward too, looking out of place on her head. She stopped and quickly patted everything back into place—hair, boobs, dress, everything. Her smile never faltered. “We have to celebrate! The best fucking champagne I can find.” And she was off, in the same whirlwind as she’d come. She signaled for one of the waiters.

She moved gracefully through the crowd among all the sparkling dresses and black tuxedos. Sia’s world was beautiful. It was much livelier than mine, and it was okay to come and visit. I didn’t think I could handle living in it, though. Would that be what happened if I moved downtown?

Or even if this place were something I loved, if it was as exclusive as she’d said, would they take me? Surely they’d want someone else, someone who was someone. I was no one. Hell, half the time I wasn’t even me. But I’d go. I’d see the place and let Sia down easy after that.

I could see her approaching now with not one but two bottles of champagne in her hands. I eyed the one she held out to me.

“Take it.” She linked her elbow through mine as I did, and guided me back through the event she’d organized. “We’re going upstairs to my office, and we’re going to get smashed.”

“What about your clients?”

“I’ve wined and dined with all of them already. They’ll be fine. The staff will take care of them. It’s best friend time.” She pulled me up the stairs and winked over her shoulder, her voice dipping down. “And besides, I’ve already made my evening plans, if you know what I mean. When you go home and I’m feeling lonely—aka horny—I’m supposed to give Bernardo a call.”

I didn’t ask who Bernardo was; she had so many boyfriends. I just smiled and followed.

I would do what she wanted. And when my sides were splitting from laughing too much later on, I’d call a cab. I’d go home, and I’d curl up under my blanket knowing that for one night, the booze would help me sleep.