It was the best I was going to find.
I called Slate.
He answered before the first ring finished. “Hey, Cherry.”
“Hey. Heard anything from Coen?”
“Not yet. I’m sure it’s going terrible, though. Simone probably threw a chair out the window.”
“I can’t see her doing that. I think she would throw the chair at Coen.”
He chuckled. “Yes. Unfortunately. Is that why you called?”
“No. Actually, I think I found an apartment. It’s really nice, it’s in a safe area, and it’s affordable.”
“Great. What part of Manhattan is it in?”
“Um…Brooklyn.”
His silence was filled with combustive anger. “I told you to move to Midtown Manhattan—”
“Just come look at it, alright? You’ll see that it’s perfectly safe.”
“It’s two trains away.”
“So? I like the train.”
“I don’t. A weirdo could feel you up on the way.”
“That’s nothing pepper spray can’t fix.”
“Are you saying it’s happened before?”
I really should keep my mouth shut. “Are you going to come look at it or not?”
“I can already tell you I don’t like it.”
“Well, I’m getting it anyway, then. It’s a great spot, and if I don’t snatch it up soon, someone else will.”
He growled into the phone. “Cherry—”
“Come look at it. You’ll like it.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Then I’m getting it. Bye.”
He spoke before I could hang up. “Give me twenty minutes.”
I waited outside and scrolled through my phone until he pulled up in his black car twenty minutes later. The back windows were completely tinted so the outside world couldn’t make out anyone inside the car. Looking like the president of the world, he stepped out in a navy blue suit and black tie, his jaw cleanly shaven and his eyes hostile.
With my arms crossed over my chest, I watched him walk up to me. “I think you look good in Brooklyn.”
His hands moved to my waist, and he kissed me on the sidewalk. “I look good anywhere, Cherry.” He squeezed my hips as he kissed me for all the world to see. He pulled me hard against him so I could feel the outline of his dick in his slacks.
“Missed me, huh?”
“I’ve been thinking about that lingerie I got you all day.”
“You could have enjoyed it last night.”
“Wasn’t in the mood. But I’m definitely in the mood now.”
I slipped out of his arms. “Too bad this isn’t my apartment yet…we could do it right on the floor.”
“I prefer up against the wall.”
I took him inside the building and to the apartment I hoped would become mine. “It’s been recently remodeled, so it’s like no one’s lived here. It’s got enough space with a nice bathroom. Plus, the neighborhood is good. The subway station is right across the street too.”
Slate moved around the room and examined the apartment like a handyman looking for something to fix. He surveyed the kitchen, tested the faucet, and then examined the dishwasher. Then he inspected the locks on the door before checking the windows.
There was no way he could find something bad about the place. I was shocked it was listed at all because anyone would kill to live there. And being right across the street from the subway was an added bonus. I didn’t have to walk three blocks anymore. “I told you it was nice.” It was an apartment inside a larger building, another luxury I’d never had before. Prior to this, my apartment had always had an exterior entrance.
He came back to me, hostility burning in his eyes. “No.”
“No, what?”
“No, you aren’t living here.”
“What the hell is wrong with it? It’s a palace for the kind of budget I’m on.”
“There was a stabbing on the corner by the train station just two weeks ago.”
“So?” I demanded. “This is New York. There are murderers and rapists everywhere. I could be in Manhattan, and that would still be a problem.”
“Well, there are no murderers or rapists in my building.”
“But I’m not a billionaire, Slate. I’ll never be a billionaire, and that’s perfectly fine. This place is good enough for me. I’m always careful.”
“I said no.”
My hand formed a fist because I wanted to punch him in the face. “You don’t tell me what to do. Not now. Not ever.”
“I do when I’m paying for you. You’re mine for the foreseeable future, and my answer is no.” As if he were in a conference room making a pitch, he dominated the conversation with that intense expression that made people shrink back.
“You own my pussy, not me. This is where I want to live.”
“You aren’t living in Brooklyn.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Brooklyn.”
“It’s not Manhattan, and it’s too far away from me. What if you need help?”
“I’ll call the cops. Slate, I’ve been on my own for a long time. I don’t need you to take care of me.”
His intense expression didn’t die away. “That’s my final answer.”
“Fuck you. I’ll do it anyway.”
“Go ahead. See if they give you the apartment.” He turned his back to me and walked to the front door.