Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 32776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Fully suited in midnight gray, with broad shoulders that looked unfairly expensive, the man stood there like he owned the oxygen I was breathing.
Say something, Chloe. Say hello…
I opened my mouth, but no words fell.
Then reality smacked me in the face.
I was dripping wet, bare-ass naked, and guilty as hell of being here when I wasn’t supposed to be.
“Never mind,” Mr. Hudson said into his phone, his gaze fixed directly on me. “I’ve discovered the ‘paranormal activity’ problem…”
I could practically feel the color draining from my face and pooling at my feet.
“I’ll call you right back.” He slipped his phone into his pocket, and his gaze traveled from my eyes to my toes before hardening again.
Still thoughtless, I covered my breasts with my hands.
I waited for him to say something—but all he did was stare.
The silence made my skin burn even hotter.
“You must be lost,” he said finally.
I nodded.
“I see.” He walked past me and grabbed a towel, but he didn’t immediately hand it over. “So, somewhere between all of the units in the building that are not for sale, you slipped into the one that was?”
“Yes…”
“The most expensive one with its own set of keys and codes?” He narrowed his eyes and finally held out the towel.
I moved to grab it, but it slipped from my fingers and landed on the floor.
Shit.
I quickly bent down and wrapped it around my body.
“I’m going to give you five seconds to tell me how the fuck you snuck into my condo,” he said, “and then a generous set of thirty seconds to get dressed while I call the police.”
“There’s no need to call the police, sir.”
“That’s not what your first five seconds are for…”
“I didn’t sneak in—” I swallowed. “I mean, not technically, because I have a key.”
“A key?” His jaw tightened. “Who on this building’s staff gave that to you?”
“No one.” I shook my head. “I’m a real estate agent and I, well, you know.”
“No. I don’t know. Explain.”
“I just requested a showing and it granted me access, so—”
“So, there’s a real customer?”
“No.”
“And you only requested it so you could steal a fucking shower?”
“Steal?” I shook my head. “No, I was just borrowing it because my shower is a disaster and…”
I struggled to find the right words as his glare shifted from heated to glacial. “I always clean up when I come here, I swear.”
“You’ve done this before?”
Shit. “No. Never.”
“For how long?”
“I should really get going.” I glanced toward the doorway. “I’m running late.”
“Not before you give me what I asked for.” He stepped to the left, blocking the exit. “How long have you been sneaking into this unit without my goddamn permission?”
I bit my tongue. There was no way in hell I was revealing that information.
“Okay,” he said, his voice clipped. “Which real estate agency do you work for?”
Yours…
“You wouldn’t know it.”
“Try me.”
“I can’t really remember right now.”
“You can’t recall your owner’s name?”
“I can describe how terrible he is, if you prefer…”
“Okay.”
“He’s not very accommodating, the commission he offers on sales isn’t the best, and I honestly hate how he sends us—”
“My ‘okay’ was rhetorical.” He cut me off. “You can save the rest of your explanation for the police.”
“I thought we agreed that you weren’t going to call them?”
“Surely you didn’t believe that.” He pulled out his phone. “Get dressed and wait for the police to get here. You’re out of your mind.”
“No, you’re out of your mind…”
I rushed past the other door to grab my bag from the parlor room. Pulling on my blouse and jeans, I silently vowed to deal with the panties situation later.
Panicking, I shoved my shampoo and soaps into my stowaway bag.
This time, I didn’t tuck anything I owned into a special hiding place.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and slipped through the bathroom’s second exit.
I was halfway across the living room when I realized I wasn’t wearing any shoes.
No, no, no…
I rushed back to the bathroom and found Mr. Hudson standing in front of the shower—studying the glass like it was a crime scene.
“Yes, I know…” he spoke into his phone. “I would very much like to report a—”
His eyes caught mine through the mirror’s reflection as I slipped into my shoes.
“A fucking crime…” He hissed.
I didn’t stick around to hear the rest of his words.
With my heart racing hard enough to crack my ribs, I sprinted toward the private elevator and slammed my finger against the “door close” button so hard my nail chipped.
I pressed “garage,” and the elevator immediately shot downward.
Please don’t call it back up. Please don’t call it back up…
The final whoosh as it passed the second set of condos eased some of the knots twisting in my stomach, but I knew I wasn’t safe yet.
The moment the doors opened, I slipped between rows of expensive sports cars and carefully cut through the security cameras’ blind spots before rushing out onto the street.