We get into a different elevator and as the doors close, he scans a card.
“You keep a room here?” I ask, confused and starting to doubt my decision of coming to his dirty-room sex lair. The limo was weird and kinda gross. This is something else. I’m not sure I’m in for this call-girl-feel type of sex. Not when the hotel staff know who he is. Meaning he’s who I thought he was.
“No.” He scowls. “I live here. My apartment.” He points at the doors as they open to a stunning foyer.
“This is your apartment?” I’ve lost a lot of my sexual desires and am starting to question things. The enormous gallery-style hallway off the elevator makes me laugh. It’s a portrait gallery like in a museum, which suits the decor.
A fluffy black-and-white cat comes running to us, meowing and rubbing against Lawrence’s legs. “Simon, this is Jenny.” He picks up the cat and turns.
“You have a cat?” I ask but recall him mentioning this at some point. The name Simon brings it back. “Right, Simon.”
My legs are moving and my eyes can’t stop scanning what I now think is the entire floor of the hotel. Of the Plaza, of all hotels. “What are you, Chuck Bass?” I spin and take it all in.
“Who?”
“Nothing,” I mumble and walk away, fully snooping. There’s a huge living room that leads to a bar, an actual bar. It flows into a theater or library or both. The entire outer wall of these three rooms is windows overlooking a terrace that has a full view of Central Park. I hurry to the left to find a formal dining room. Which is weird. My grandma is the one person I know with a formal dining room.
That leads to a breakfast room with again, a huge terrace overlooking the city.
The kitchen is the size of my apartment, and I suspect Lawrence has never cooked a meal in his life.
The pantry is weirdly huge and well equipped for a guy who lives alone with his cat. Or is he here alone?
“Where are you going?” He laughs and follows after me.
“What the hell, Lawrence?” I gasp when I enter the gym, a two-room gym. It’s insane. People could pay memberships for it.
The hallway from there leads back to the elevator. “You have wings. An east wing and a north wing and a west wing?” I walk past him and the cat, to the library which brings me to a set of double doors. They lead into a bedroom like I’ve never seen in real life. It’s the size of the living room. It has a full office to one side and a hallway with weird closet doors, reminding me of something from a horror movie but, they’re plush fabric-covered and in a taupe.
“I haven’t redecorated yet. The former owner was a fan of Versailles.” He’s defending himself for the furnishings, but honestly, it’s something out of a castle and I’m kind of digging it. It’s the sort of place you have themed sex wearing a wench costume.
There are his and hers dressing rooms, closets, and bathrooms. “The entire east wing is a master suite?” I laugh and stare at it all, shaking my head in tiny twitches. “Do you live here alone? This is bigger than my elementary school.”
“It was a steal. Some shady European investment banker”—he makes finger quotes—“died and his family was under suspicion for his crimes so they wanted to get rid of it quickly. And it was a cash deal so I got it for a steal.” He puts Simon down and points randomly at the room. “It’s a smart investment and while I’m playing here, it works as a home.” He totally tries to shrug off the billionaire’s apartment.
“A home? How dare you bring me here after seeing my apartment.” I laugh. “I’m glad you didn’t see the last one.”
“I’m not at all interested in your apartment, Ms. Snowdon.” He steps forward. “Or mine. I was all for fucking in Stan’s bathroom. You’re the one who wanted to leave.”
“And the limo? You don’t do limo sex?”
“Well, I do but it’s Matt’s limo and I really like Charles, so I doubt I could have performed in there,” he admits casually.
“Matt’s limo?” I bite my upper lip to prevent anything else from popping out.
“Yeah, I-I don’t have a driver. I prefer to drive myself. In a car. Or truck.” He narrows his eyes. “Were you thinking I was going to cheaply bang you in the car and then drop you off? ‘Cause that’s not what I was thinking. At all.”
“Okay,” I say with a smile. He moves forward but I put a hand up, realizing this closure thing has to happen because I don’t want to have sex and avoid him again afterward. I like him. Even if he lives in a weird apartment castle alone with his cat. “Wait. I need to say something first.”
“Noooooo.” He moves closer but I move back.
“Seriously. I have to apologize. It was a weird couple of weeks and it’s a long story.” I laugh nervously. “And I need you to hear it.” I don’t know if I’m starting in the right spot. “Do you have ice cream?”
“Fuck me, we’re really going to talk? My bed is right there.”
“I’m going to bet there’s ice cream.” I ignore him. “You have one of those nice old-lady housekeepers, don’t you?” I hurry past him for the kitchen. It takes two tries because I get turned around by the gym.
“Her name’s Millie.” He follows behind me, grumbling, “There’s a Ben and Jerry’s collection.”
When I find it,
