Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
“Jasper hit it big in finance,” she says as if reading my mind. “But he’s one of the most humble men you could ever meet.”
“Jasper huh?” I say, not meaning to sound as jealous as I feel. The twinge in my gut is foreign, and I try to shake it off as quickly as it came.
“He and his partner are in Paris, I think. I’m not sure. They were traveling Europe this month.”
An odd sense of relief washes over me at her mention of Jasper having a partner, and I feel silly for my momentary possessive need to… I’m not sure what. But I didn’t like thinking of Rowan being with another man.
“My family has a house down the street from here,” she says as we park the car in front of the huge wrap-around porch. I see an attached garage and make a mental note to come out once we are settled and put the car into the garage out of sight.
“Am I correct in assuming you have more than one family home?”
She chuckles. “Saying a simple yes would be an understatement. I’m not even sure I even know where they all are.”
The exorbitant displays of wealth have always been a foreign concept to me. Despite living in The Whitney, I live a simple life. I always have. Though I have just as much money—if not more because I don’t spend mine—as Dex and every man who shows off their billionaire status with watches, cars, and real estate, I don’t display what I have. I prefer burgers over steak, beer over wine, and I hate fancy restaurants. I’ve never owned a car because I live in New York City and don’t need one. Because I grew up at The Whitney and live there currently, I’ve never felt the need to own a house or penthouse either. My father always believed that we should be able to leave at a moment’s notice with a duffle bag and nothing more. No attachments. No reason to stay if we had to flee.
Funny, that I’m getting out of a car now with nothing but a single bag for me and one for Rowan. If that isn’t the definition of simplicity, I don’t know what is.
When Rowan opens the door and we walk into the massive open floor plan room that overlooks the water, I notice that the view does nothing to Rowan. After disarming the alarm with the correct security code, she doesn’t seem the slightest bit impressed with the grandeur of the house. I suppose she’s been to the house before, but I realize that this is the life she’s always lived. Rich and fabulous.
The house is extremely nice, but because of the floor to ceiling windows that make up the entire backside of the house, it’s also a house that is extremely vulnerable. This will have to be a very temporary stay. I can’t defend this place at all. It’s impossible to secure.
I put down our bags by the door, not feeling the need to scare Rowan with my assessment. “So let me ask you something,” I begin. “Why do you spend so much time at The Whitney? You just said your family has multiple homes. Why do you practically live at a hotel?”
She makes her way to the kitchen and pulls out two wine glasses from a cabinet. She then opens a wine fridge that has an expansive array of wines. It’s clear with how comfortably she moves, she’s familiar with this house and knows where everything is. As she begins to open a bottle of red wine, she shrugs. “Look how big this house is,” she finally says. “This is what my homes look like. Huge. And lonely. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want the only sound I hear to be my own breathing and nothing else. The Whitney gives me people. It has energy around. I get greetings and goodbyes. I at least don’t go through my entire day in silence.”
She hands me a glass of wine, and we both tap our glasses together. “I can relate to that,” I say as I follow her to the sliding glass door that opens to a large patio overlooking a massive beach that seems to belong solely to this house. There isn’t a soul in sight. “I’ve lived at The Whitney my entire life, or at least most of it. I don’t think I’d like living in a house by myself either.”
She gives me a smile that lights up her entire face and most definitely brightens the blue in her eyes. “I think you’re the first person who has said that to me and understands. People just assume it’s because I like the room service and housekeeping. That I’m spoiled. But it’s not for those reasons. I need the heartbeat of the hotel. It masks the—”