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Chapter Ten
They had to take an outside elevator just to get inside. Selena had never seen anything structurally built like Jordan’s home before. After stepping into the elevator, Jordan grabbed her hand and linked their fingers again. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key that fit the lock against the elevator wall. The lock opened, revealing a keypad where he then entered a code and simultaneously it asked him to speak.
“Jordan Alexander Rose,” his thick voice grounded out.
The system accepted his voice, and they rode to the penthouse floor.
“Security is no joke, huh?”
Jordan smirked. “I was fine with just a code, but my brother, Jacob, built this place, and he’s a bit anal about security.”
“Wait, your brother Jacob built this place, seriously?”
“Yeah, he’s the architect of the bunch.” Jordan smirked at the amazement on Selena’s face. Within a few seconds, they reached their destination. When Jordan turned Selena around to face the back of the elevator, the doors receded, and they stepped out onto hardwood floors that shone like they’d just been pristinely buffed.
“Whoa,” Selena murmured; she tried to keep her mouth closed, but the magnificence of the room swept her away.
Natural moonlight crept through the wall of windows dashing across the floorboards and countertops. The living room held a massive architectural fireplace, modern furnishings, and a chandelier was competing next to the fireplace for the centerpiece of the room.
“Jordan, this is beautiful…” Selena said, staring at the crystals dangling from the chandelier.
He enjoyed watching her admire the space. Selena appeared giddy with excitement, and he loved to see her smile.
“Do you live here alone? I mean, this place has to be about—”
“Four thousand square feet,” he stated matter of fact.
Selena’s mouth opened wider.
“And of course, I live here alone. But the building does have two other occupants on the first two floors below.
“Wait don’t tell me.” She held her arms out to stop his revelation. “Beyoncé and Pharrell, am I right?”
Jordan laughed. “No, silly girl.” He strolled up to her and wrapped her in his arms.
“Are you sure because I can’t imagine anyone else can afford this.”
“Neither of them pays rent, if that’s what you mean. I own the entire loft, but my chef lives on the second floor, and my fitness trainer on the third.”
Selena nodded slowly. “Because you don’t have time to cook your own food,” she said.
“Or, visit a regular gym,” he finished.
Selena chuckled. “Damn, must be nice.”
Jordan shrugged. “It’s all right. The more you’re around, the more you’ll get used to it.”
Selena pointed to herself. “Me, you’re talking about me, right?”
Jordan chuckled. “Of course.” He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, and Selena shivered.
“Come on, you haven’t seen the rest of the place.”
He took her hand and gave Selena a tour of the remaining conservatory as Selena gawked at each new area they entered. The office was bigger than Selena’s office at work; she didn’t know whether to feel shame or awe.
“I could positively work in here,” she said, taking her eyes around the large cherry oak desk, plush shaggy carpet, Barcelona chairs, and an aerial bookshelf.
“Oooh, I envy your bookshelf,” she said, watching how the cherry oak design spanned the length of the wall completely. “Have you read all of these books,” she asked, strolling up to the mantelpiece.