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I lift the bag I’m holding. “At least we have food if it breaks down.”
She rolls her eyes. “Have you lived here long?”
“Since June,” I reply.
Collins nods, sucking her bottom lip in between her teeth as she leans against the brass railing.
My money makes her uncomfortable, and it’s one of many things that’s always intrigued me about her. I’m accustomed to women treating time with me like literally winning the lottery—eagerly agreeing to luxurious vacations and ordering the most expensive wine on the menu and dropping hints about designer accessories they’ve always coveted.
So, it figures that the one woman I’m tied to for the rest of my life argues about me buying her dinner.
“There’s a pool,” I state. “And a full gym. Plus a twenty-four-hour doorman. My place has private rooftop access.”
Collins’s expression remains impassive as I list off the amenities. It sounds like I’m bragging, but this isn’t me trying to impress her. I’m trying to highlight convenience more than anything. A safe, easy place to exercise. Someone to help with packages. The roof? Yeah, maybe that was plain old boasting. But she should see the nighttime view of Central Park. That’s what soldmeon this location.
The elevator stops a few floors shy of the top. The doors open to reveal Mrs. Van Lewan, dressed like a butterfly.
She waves when she sees me. “Hello there, Christopher!”
I smile back. “Edna! You look fabulous! Headed up?”
She preens in response to my compliment, then frowns and opens her purse. To search, I’m guessing, for the glasses perched on the top of her head. “You go ahead,” she says, waving a wrinkled hand as she continues to rummage around. “Forgot my damn spectacles again and hit the wrong button. Aging is a clusterfuck.”
Collins’s eyes widen, and I swallow a chuckle.
Edna is a sweet old lady with a penchant for swearing like a sailor at the slightest inconvenience. Her family’s wealth came from her grandfather’s ship-building company, and we bonded over boats when she showed up at my door to welcome me to the building over the summer.
“Your glasses are on the top of your head,” I inform her.
Edna’s hand flies upward to pat her white curls, nearly losing one of her wings. She locates the glasses a few seconds later. “Thank you, darling. I’ll just—” She smiles, catching sight of Collins. “And who’s this?”
The doors start to close, so I stick a hand out to keep them open. “This is Collins. She’s myoldersister’s friend.”
Collins spares a tight-lipped look for me before aiming a polite smile at Edna. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“Ma’am? Psst. Call me Edna, dearest. It’ssonice to finally meet a lady friend of Christopher’s. The only person he brings around here is that handsome Flynn.”
I beam at her.
“Really?” Collins sounds surprised.
I’m sure she pictured a rotating door of women coming in and out of my bedroom. But there are parts of my life I like to keep private, and where I live is one of them. If I’m hooking up with a woman—which hasn’t happened in a while—I’ll go to their place or a hotel.
Edna nods rapidly. “Oh, yes. I had half a mind to set him up with my granddaughter, but I thought he might be too spirited for her—” Edna’s phone starts ringing, cutting her off. “Oh, dear. Where did I leave that blasted thing?” she wonders, patting the sides of her costume, which doesn’t appear to have pockets.
Collins’s smile is amused now, not just friendly.Spirited?she mouths at me.
Edna neglected to mention her granddaughter is in her mid-thirties.
“Happy Halloween, Edna,” I say. “Have a good night.”
“You too. You too,” she mumbles, distracted by the hunt for her phone.
I drop my arm. The doors shut a second later, and we continue to rise.
“You’re friends with your elderly neighbor?”
I glance over at Collins. “Yeah. Why?”