Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
I get up, get changed, and walk into the weight room where I spend two hours lifting weights and switching it up with cardio. When I finally walk out of the arena, it’s quarter to five, and I make my way over to my new house. My phone vibrates as soon as the cab pulls up to the apartment.
Zoe: Just buzz when you get here.
I walk to the gray door and press the number five, which is already changed to V. P. She buzzes me in right away, and I nod at the woman walking out of the elevator with her dog. I press five and make my way to my new apartment. I haven’t been back here since the open house three weeks ago. I knock on the door, and then hear Zoe yell, “Coming!”
She unlocks the door and then throws back the door, and yells, “Welcome home!” as she throws her arms out to her sides. I’m in shock when I look behind her and see that the apartment is empty, but the balloons at the end of the room tied together spell out:
W-E-L-C-O-M-E H-O-M-E
“What is all this?” I say, looking around once I walk in and see baskets on the counter that separate the kitchen from the living and dining room.
“Well,” she says, and I watch her as she closes the door. She’s wearing tight dark blue jeans with holes in the front and a long-sleeved white sweater. It’s a normal outfit, and I shouldn’t even be looking at her in that way, but I can’t help it. Plus, she is barefoot, her gray strappy heels tossed beside the front door. I don’t let my mind linger on the bubble gum pink she has painted on her nails. “I knew this place would be empty, and I knew your stuff was coming on Monday, so I added some decorations.”
“You didn’t have to do this.” As I look around, there must be a hundred balloons just hanging there with the ribbons.
I walk to the counter and look at the baskets. There is a fruit basket and then one with champagne in it. “And just because I’m an awesome person,” she says, stopping beside me and grabbing the bottle. “The very best non-alcoholic champagne money can buy,” she says, and I swear her face is like a kid on Christmas morning. She pops the bottle and then pours it into two crystal glasses that are also in the basket. She puts down the bottle and hands me one of the glasses and then she hands me the key that is on a key chain. “Congratulations,” she says. I grab the key and place it in my pocket next to my chip.
I hold up my glass. “Thank you to the best real estate agent I know.” I click her glass, and she takes a sip.
“Not too bad for twenty bucks,” she says. “And I’m the only real estate agent you know. I mean, in New York.”
“This is true,” I tell her and then hear the buzzer and look at her surprised.
Her eyes twinkle bright. “I may have one more surprise up my sleeve,” she says, and I walk to the door and press the buzzer to let the person in. I open the door and wait for the elevator door to ping, and then I spot the guy coming down with food. “Delivery from Daluggi,” the man says and hands me the two pizza boxes with three bags on top.
I shut the door and look at her as she takes paper plates out of a bag along with plastic utensils. “You thought of everything,” I tell her and place the pizza on the counter.
“Well, not really. I didn’t go out of the box with the order,” she tells me, opening the boxes. “I ordered you exactly what you had when you got the house. Almost like you’ve come full circle.”
She smiles, and I don’t know what to think or to say or to do. There are so many things I want to do like lean over and kiss her lips or touch her face. The endless possibilities run through my mind along with all the reasons not to.
She must notice the change in my demeanor, and her face falls. “I’m so sorry,” she starts to say and closes the box. “I shouldn’t have assumed you were free.” She grabs her jacket from the counter. “I’ll just leave the food here for you.” She picks up her purse, and I watch her walk over to her shoes. She doesn’t even put them on; she just grabs them in her hand, and she’s turning the handle of the door. She is moving so fast I can barely get the words out.
“Where are you going?” I ask her when the words finally come to my throat. “I was just …” I shake my head. I can’t tell her what I was thinking or what I wanted to do. “This is just very nice and thoughtful of you.” I watch her as she stands there. “Thank you for doing all this, Zoe.” She smiles and then looks down. “Please stay and help me eat this food.”