“I told the owner we’d meet him outside at eleven thirty.” He checked his watch. “We’re a few minutes early.”
Molly leaned forward to peer around Nick and gazed out the driver’s side window. Rising four stories, the building’s brick façade looked in need of an immediate power wash. Shades were drawn in some of the windows. Cheap curtains framed smudged glass in the remaining ones. Someone in a ground floor apartment had balanced a couple of clay flowerpots on a window ledge. A few tired-looking sprigs of green peeked up over the rims. The front door looked as if you needed a battering ram to enter the premises.
“Is that a transient hotel?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. It’s an apartment building.”
“It looks shabby.”
“What? I suppose my building reminds you of the Fairmont.”
She caught another whiff of his aftershave. Damn if it wasn’t the exact one that came as a sample sheet in the latest issue of Cosmo. Rugged, yet seductive, or so the ad claimed. Rightly so. She wondered if a woman had bought it for him in hopes he’d put that heady scent to work on her. If it weren’t for their million-dollar disagreement, Molly might consider taking a turn on the receiving end. He’d have to drop the attitude and really prove he was one of the good guys, though. What were the chances he’d morph into a prince? She hoped not as unlikely as being dealt a royal flush sans wild cards.
Mostly commercial buildings lined the block. A deli occupied one corner, a bar and launderette the other two. The ubiquitous hole-in the-wall Chinese restaurant clung to the fourth.
“How did you find this place?” She sat back and opened one of her folders and did a quick scan of the ads to see if she’d highlighted the address.
“A guy who works on my condo project touted me onto it. He lives here. Said he pays in the low seven hundreds.”
A construction guy. Well, it never hurt to have a little muscle on the premises. The low seven hundreds? He must hole up in a jail cell-sized room with a hotplate, mini fridge, and bathroom privileges down the hall. If true, it ought to blow a hole in the Mancini Proclamation.
Nick angled his body into the corner created by the driver’s seat and door. The expression that settled across his features said the attitude was out and the sex appeal was back in.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish