and kept the apartment.”
“Nice.” A black leather sofa hugged one wall
with a black lacquer coffee table. The walls were white with three
original canvases painted in brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows.
There was a back door that led to a garden. Brooke was drawn to the
long bookcase covering most of one wall. “Shakespeare, Chaucer, The
Romantic Poets…hmm. Interesting collection.”
“Don’t forget the Norman Mailer, Hemingway,
Steinbeck, and Fitzgerald,” he said, bending down to let Buddy lick
his face.
“Quite a reader.”
“Every writer’s a reader. Besides, I was an
English major in college.”
“Really? You went to college?”
He made a face. “Of course.”
“One doesn’t think of a super needing a four
year degree.”
“It was temporary work. To get out of the
house.”
“Oh?”
“My parents live on the East Side. I needed
to be on my own.”
“I get it.”
He leashed Buddy. “Ready to go?”
“I don’t get a tour?”
“There’s not much to see. There’s the closet.
Around that corner is the bathroom and the bedroom.” He raised his
eyebrows. “You want to see my bedroom?”
She sensed heat in her face. “I mean, one
usually gets a tour…I didn’t mean…”
“Oh, by all means. Allow me.” He presented
his arm. “Let me escort you into my bedroom.”
Brooke slapped him playfully on the shoulder
and followed behind. The pugs had already checked out the bedroom
and returned to the tiny kitchen, sniffing the floor for scraps of
food.
The bedroom was also white, but the
queen-size bed dwarfed the small room. The color scheme was navy
blue and red. Brooke leaped onto the bed, bouncing up, and landing
with her head on his pillow.
Pres climbed up after her. “Never been so
easy to get a girl in my bed before.” He snickered.
“Why you!” She feigned anger, her mouth open,
her eyes wide, filled with laughter.
He took a chance and scooted over her,
trapping her legs between his, pinning her wrists to the bed with
his hands. Being confined and helpless was new for Brooke. At
first, she panicked then staring into his eyes, seeing his warm
expression, she relaxed. His gaze lingered on her mouth.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, lowering
his lips to hers. When he released her, she smoothed her hands over
his shoulders. The kiss was brief, but sweet. His lips were soft
and gentle. A slight rasp from the stubble on his chin excited her.
“Come on,” he said, falling back away from her. “The dogs need to
go out.”
He rolled off the bed and offered his hand.
The three were at the door, waiting patiently.
As they headed for Central Park, the fresh,
June air caressed their faces while the sun warmed their backs.
They strolled along behind the pugs, who stopped to sniff and
play.
“I broke up with Lloyd.”
Pres glanced at her. “Oh? How come?”
“He’s sleeping with the client. I don’t
respect that, and I don’t share, either. Besides, when I saw him
cave to the president…well, I realized I didn’t love him. Probably
don’t even like him much.”
“Hmm. Does that mean a clear field for a new
guy?”
“You?” She arched an eyebrow at him.
“No, John Alden. Of course, me.”
“Maybe. I’ve got to focus on getting a job
first.”
“Can’t be job hunting on Saturday night.” He
took her hand.
She smiled up at him. “S’pose not.”
“Let me take you out next Saturday.”
She looked up through her thick, dark lashes
at him and pursed her lips. He’s handsome and nice. And not in
advertising. A trifecta? Why not? “Okay.”
“Great!” He slung his arm around her waist
and pulled her into a bear hug. Freddy and Ginger started barking.
Pres stepped back. “Hey, I’m not hurting her, guys. Chill.” He
crouched down to pet them.
“Great little watchdogs.”
“Too good. Wonder what would’ve happened if
I’d kissed you?”
“Attack!” She laughed.
Pres took her hand again, and they did a loop
around the Great Lawn.
“Nice.” A black leather sofa hugged one wall
with a black lacquer coffee table. The walls were white with three
original canvases painted in brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows.
There was a back door that led to a garden. Brooke was drawn to the
long bookcase covering most of one wall. “Shakespeare, Chaucer, The
Romantic Poets…hmm. Interesting collection.”
“Don’t forget the Norman Mailer, Hemingway,
Steinbeck, and Fitzgerald,” he said, bending down to let Buddy lick
his face.
“Quite a reader.”
“Every writer’s a reader. Besides, I was an
English major in college.”
“Really? You went to college?”
He made a face. “Of course.”
“One doesn’t think of a super needing a four
year degree.”
“It was temporary work. To get out of the
house.”
“Oh?”
“My parents live on the East Side. I needed
to be on my own.”
“I get it.”
He leashed Buddy. “Ready to go?”
“I don’t get a tour?”
“There’s not much to see. There’s the closet.
Around that corner is the bathroom and the bedroom.” He raised his
eyebrows. “You want to see my bedroom?”
She sensed heat in her face. “I mean, one
usually gets a tour…I didn’t mean…”
“Oh, by all means. Allow me.” He presented
his arm. “Let me escort you into my bedroom.”
Brooke slapped him playfully on the shoulder
and followed behind. The pugs had already checked out the bedroom
and returned to the tiny kitchen, sniffing the floor for scraps of
food.
The bedroom was also white, but the
queen-size bed dwarfed the small room. The color scheme was navy
blue and red. Brooke leaped onto the bed, bouncing up, and landing
with her head on his pillow.
Pres climbed up after her. “Never been so
easy to get a girl in my bed before.” He snickered.
“Why you!” She feigned anger, her mouth open,
her eyes wide, filled with laughter.
He took a chance and scooted over her,
trapping her legs between his, pinning her wrists to the bed with
his hands. Being confined and helpless was new for Brooke. At
first, she panicked then staring into his eyes, seeing his warm
expression, she relaxed. His gaze lingered on her mouth.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, lowering
his lips to hers. When he released her, she smoothed her hands over
his shoulders. The kiss was brief, but sweet. His lips were soft
and gentle. A slight rasp from the stubble on his chin excited her.
“Come on,” he said, falling back away from her. “The dogs need to
go out.”
He rolled off the bed and offered his hand.
The three were at the door, waiting patiently.
As they headed for Central Park, the fresh,
June air caressed their faces while the sun warmed their backs.
They strolled along behind the pugs, who stopped to sniff and
play.
“I broke up with Lloyd.”
Pres glanced at her. “Oh? How come?”
“He’s sleeping with the client. I don’t
respect that, and I don’t share, either. Besides, when I saw him
cave to the president…well, I realized I didn’t love him. Probably
don’t even like him much.”
“Hmm. Does that mean a clear field for a new
guy?”
“You?” She arched an eyebrow at him.
“No, John Alden. Of course, me.”
“Maybe. I’ve got to focus on getting a job
first.”
“Can’t be job hunting on Saturday night.” He
took her hand.
She smiled up at him. “S’pose not.”
“Let me take you out next Saturday.”
She looked up through her thick, dark lashes
at him and pursed her lips. He’s handsome and nice. And not in
advertising. A trifecta? Why not? “Okay.”
“Great!” He slung his arm around her waist
and pulled her into a bear hug. Freddy and Ginger started barking.
Pres stepped back. “Hey, I’m not hurting her, guys. Chill.” He
crouched down to pet them.
“Great little watchdogs.”
“Too good. Wonder what would’ve happened if
I’d kissed you?”
“Attack!” She laughed.
Pres took her hand again, and they did a loop
around the Great Lawn.
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