Dawn of Eve, MJ Howson [lightweight ebook reader TXT] 📗

The apartment, located on the twelfth floor of 15 Central Park West, offered a stunning view of New York’s iconic park. Unlike the steel and glass skinny skyscrapers rising up nearby, the thirty-five-story residence was designed more along the lines of old-world luxury. From the limestone exterior, sourced from the same quarry used for the Empire State building, to the rich English oak and Italian marble entrance, the complex dripped in first-class accommodations.

As Jacob stood there admiring the view, the bathroom door opened, and Carol stepped into the room. She adjusted her full-length red silk robe and brushed her long salt and pepper hair behind her shoulders.

“Sorry,” Carol said as she crossed the room to meet Jacob. “I can’t think of the last time I was that, um, sweaty.”

“No apologies needed.”

Carol was a fairly new client. Like many of Jacob’s older clients, she was at least ten to fifteen pounds overweight and very self-conscious of her looks. This was their second session together, but Jacob hoped she’d become a regular. High-end high-paying customers like these were what he lived for.

“I hope I didn’t disappoint you.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Well, I’m sure I’m much older than most–”

“I told you during our first session that age is just a number.” Jacob crossed his arms and studied Carol’s face. He could see the doubt washing over her. “I’ve got clients half your age who aren’t nearly as flexible as you are.”

“You’re just saying that.” Carol chuckled and waved a dismissive hand toward Jacob.

“It’s true. Trust me.” Jacob nodded toward the window beside him. Central Park, viewed from above, looked like an intricate green and brown tapestry laced with an endless variety of threads and fabrics. “I still can’t get over this view. How much does a place like this cost?”

“Well, to be honest, I’m . . . I’m, not sure.”

“Oh. Well, that’s okay. It’s really none of my business.”

“Let me explain.” Carol briefly ran her hand along Jacob’s glistening shoulder. “My husband bought it. I had no say in the matter.”

“Oh.”

Carol patted Jacob’s arm and looked out the window. She sighed and said, “When he passed away two years ago, it all fell into the hands of my trust fund manager. He pays all my expenses. I . . . I really don’t know what any of this costs.”

Jacob smiled a crooked grin and nodded, but inside he wanted to explode. He knew Carol’s three-bedroom high-end apartment adjacent to Central Park was easily worth eight-figures. During his first visit here, he ran into Denzel Washington on the elevator. Apparently, he was one of a number of celebrities with homes here.

It amazed Jacob how so many rich people could be completely clueless about the privileged lives they led. He saw it constantly, going all the way back to his modeling days. He’d banged more than his fair share of billionaires in his twenties. Even now, working at the Harbor View bar, he regularly mingled with the elite. They’d think nothing of buying or selling a yacht. Or, like Carol, living in a place they literally couldn’t put a price tag on.

“I should get going,” Jacob said. He walked past Carol to get to his duffel bag.

“Did . . . did you need a shower?”

“Oh. No. No, thank you.” Jacob looked down at his sweat-covered body. He had a jacket in his duffel bag but wanted to cool down before tossing it on later. “I need to get to my next client.” Jacob smiled as he picked up his bag. Carol stood there smiling back. He sighed and finally said, “Are you forgetting something?”

“Oh!” Carol laughed and shuffled back to the hallway. She picked up an envelope resting on a white marble console table and brought it back to Jacob. “Sorry.”

Jacob grinned as he opened it and rifled through the fifty-dollar bills jammed inside. He knew he didn’t need to count it and slid the envelope into his bag.

“Same time next week?” Carol asked.

“Oh. Sure thing. Definitely. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Jacob turned and headed toward the door. He glanced back to see Carol standing there smiling with her hands clasped across her waist. He was happy he had another satisfied and recurring customer.

As he closed the door and entered the hallway, Jacob’s phone buzzed. He frowned when he read the notification reminding him about an upcoming monthly scheduled bank transfer. He sighed, dismissed the reminder, and said, “Is it that time already?”

The elevator ride to the lobby gave Jacob time to think about what he should do now that his four o’clock client bailed on him. His shift at the bar didn’t start until seven tonight. His mind immediately went to Dawn. Jacob knew he’d been absent lately and should probably check in on her.

Foot traffic on Central Park West was light. The air was cooler than he expected, but the breeze felt nice rushing across his sweaty exposed arms. Jacob retrieved his phone from his pocket and dialed Dawn. After a few rings, she answered.

“Jacob?” Dawn asked.

“Hey there.” Jacob continued heading south toward Columbus Circle. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No. Not at all. This . . . this is a nice surprise. I’ve been thinking about you a lot today.”

“Are you free for an early dinner?”

“Tonight?”

“Yes. My schedule cleared up. I thought we could–”

“I thought we were getting together tomorrow night. Or did you forget?”

“Not at all.”

“Our one-year anniversary. The night we met at the bar.”

“I can’t believe it’s been a year.” Jacob still had no idea what to do for their anniversary. He was still paying for last month’s extravagant birthday night. He was hoping to find a simple restaurant near her place where they could dine. “If you don’t want me to come by tonight, I’ll understand.”

“Of course not. I’d love to see you.”

“Great.” Jacob stopped near the entrance to the Columbus Circle subway. He closed his eyes and mapped the route he could take to walk to the Spire.