The oven blared its alarm.
I freaked.
"Wait!" I breathed, "Calm down, Alexa. It's just the oven."
I ran over to grab an oven mitt and retrieve my batch of cookies from the hot depths. Once I set them out to cool, I looked around at my kitchen to see if there was anything else I could put in the oven. Anything other than my work files. They weren't flammable, according to Zane.
I did try though. It was already Wednesday night—two days before my big assignment, and to say I was on edge was an understatement. Over the past week of preparations, Zane kept dumping more and more files on my desk, even though I was pretty sure that it was supposed to be the other way around. Very quickly, I was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information I had to memorize just to sit around and say nothing at the conference.
I had tried pacing while memorizing the information. That worked...for the first ten minutes, and then I became distracted by the New York City skyline that I was convinced I hadn't properly appreciated yet. So, I stared at it, and possibly my phone, for an hour.
After that attempt, I tried to move my materials into the kitchen for a different scenery than my bedroom. And for fifteen whole minutes, I was utterly inspired.
But then I moved on to making as much food as possible without actually leaving to go to the grocery store.
Spread across my counter were cookies, brownies, brookies, banana bread, cake, and a pie.
Would it be bragging to say I had picked up some things back at college when I was supposed to be studying for midterms?
Exhausted by that effort and feeling uninspired to clean the pans, I retired to my couch. Thankfully, my phone had been charging during my second break down.
As I was glancing at my Instagram, a text case across. From my mother.
Against my better judgement, I clicked on it.
It is WEDNESDAY NIGHT. Are you studying? So help me Alexa if you are doing that thing where u pretend to drown yourself in a bubble bath instead of studying, I will come down and kick u out of this apartment myself!! You are already an embarrassment. Don't screw this up!
-Mom
I scowled angrily. I knew I'd regret telling her.
Frustrated, I cocked my arm to chuck my phone at the couch pillows, but then I was stopped by it's sudden vibration. I pulled it down.
It was my father calling.
I flared my nostrils. I wasn't on speaking terms with him either. Not by a long shot. And not until the next lifetime.
A couple nights ago I was checking Facebook, and I saw a message scroll across Congratulating my father, and mentioning me. After the divorce where I chose my mother over him, we both unfollowed each other. But, piqued by what my father could have done that deemed him worthy of congratulations, I went to check his Facebook. It was there I saw a flood of pictures.
Of his wedding. To the girl he cheated on my mom with.
And that I had not been invited to.
Seth was there. Her children were there. The whole fucking town was there. I was not. Plain and simple.
Naturally after that, I had sent a rather scathing voicemail to him renouncing him as my father.
And then I cried until the next day.
But, I was definitely better now. It was even becoming natural to keep declining his calls.
Breathe.
I looked down to realize I was the fisting the couch again. It had become a habit I had picked up in San Diego whenever Paul came home drunk and my mother decided to start drinking with him.
"Damn," I swore. "Heavy thoughts for a Wednesday night, huh."
I decided I needed fresh air. I got up to head up to the roof, but that was when my phone rang for a second time.
I almost didn't check it. My father often called five times an hour. But when I looked down, it did not have the devil emoji flashing across my screen. Only the words Unknown Number.
They may as well have said Procrastination.
I accepted the call.
"Hello?"
"Alexa?" A voice on the other end questioned.
I frowned. "Who is this?" Very quickly I became convinced that this was the creepy girl Haley that was also apparently friends with Gretchen. The one that was in awe of me for some reason.
"It's me!" The voice said, suddenly sounding ten times huskier. "It's Jake."
My eyebrows shot up. "My, my, you're turning into quite a stalker, Mr. Hill. First my place of work, and now my phone number? Do you already have people trying to find out where I live?"
"Ha, no," he chuckled. "It's enough that you know where I live."
I frowned. "But, seriously, how did you get this number, Jake? There's no way I'm in Matteo's database yet."
"You're not," he replied sheepishly. "I asked Blake."
My face reddened. I couldn't imagine the thoughts going through Blake's head when his roommate asked him for his ex-girlfriend's number. He probably thinks I'm a bitch and a slut for ignoring him and now sleeping with his roommate.
That was a step in the wrong direction, my friend.
I sighed. "What do you want? As you can hear in my voice, I'm really tired and don't have a lot of patience."
"Okay, Okay, I understand," said Jake. "But hear me out."
The last time I did that, as in eight days ago, I almost got fired, I thought bitterly.
I left the door where I had been standing and collapsed onto the couch. Hearing him out would definitely take more than a couple minutes.
"What?"
"Okay, well I know you are probably busy having just moved here and started a new job, but, I was kinda hoping we could meet up," he said nervously
I rolled my eyes. He was a millionaire. Hot men like him didn't get nervous. "And discuss our next imaginary sex position where you actually do all the work?" I said sarcastically. "Cut the crap. What do you really want?"
Jake chuckled. "Not buying it, huh?"
"I've had a lot of practice with seeing through lies."
"That's fair," he replied. "But, actually, I do want to take you out. I'll buy us dinner, we can take a walk around the city, and then maybe, I don't know, talk about the watch?"
I groaned. "What the hell! I'm hanging up!"
I almost hit decline, but then I heard, "Hold up!"
I scowled. "I can't deal with this anymore, Jake. Twice I've said to forget this and twice you've ignored me and found another way to bug me about it. There's no way Blake wants this watch back that bad."
"You stole it," he argued.
"Trust me, my little theft is the last of his problems with me."
"Well, for God's sake, at least tell me about one of them," Jake demanded. "How on earth is stealing a priceless family heirloom the least of his problems?"
I thought silently for a moment. "Was this watch a gift from him to you?"
"Yes," he exclaimed. "It was my great grandfather's and I gave it to him when our companies merged. So I'm baffled by why you think you have the right to take it?"
"I don't know," I moaned. "I don't know, okay? I thought taking it would make me feel better but now it's just brought your wrath on top of his! And I can't take it any longer!"
The phone went silent, and I thought Jake had hung up. But then it crackled back to life. "I'm sorry, Alexa. Honestly, it doesn't mean that much to me that you took it. It's just that Blake has almost disappeared completely, and I have no idea why. My only thought is that it was because you were rude and took his watch and now hiding will make you feel bad and return it."
I stared silently at the phone in utter disbelief. How could someone so hot and so successful be this stupid? It was so obvious why Blake had shut himself in—me.
I angrily drummed my nails against the couch. "If Blake wanted this watch that bad then he should have fought harder to keep it and protect it instead of allowing it to be roped in with other problem watches. None of this would have happened if he handled his own problems like a big boy."
"Uh, are we still talking about watches?"
I scoffed. "For the third time, I am not giving him his watch back. Do not bother me again, Jake Hill, because I am very busy."
"Busy buying cookies from the Great American Cookie?"
"Baking them, actually," I retorted.
"How domestic of you."
My mouth fell open. Angry, I went to press the red button, but he stopped me again by yelling, "Wait!"
. "What?" I snapped.
"I'm sorry," Jake said sincerely. "I really do want to take you out and show you around the city, Bambi. We don't have to talk about the watch. Just you."
Unsure how to respond, I glanced over my shoulder. My attention snagged on the skyline through my window. Sitting here and looking out, it reminded me of the City Cafe. The booth Graham and I sat at, and we'd look out at the town.
Graham. The guy I abandoned for Blake.
Blake. The man I never stopped loving.
I pressed the phone back up against my ear. "I'm sorry, Jake. It's better if you just forget about me as easily as Blake did."
I declined before he had the chance to tell me to stop.
I looked at the dead phone in my hand. Now I really need fresh air.
I got up from my couch and made a quick stop in the kitchen. I gathered as many treats as I could in a bag to munch on while I contemplated my existence, and then I went to the door of my penthouse. For a moment I stared at the handle, deciding wether I should call Jake back and give him the full story so he wouldn't be left wondering.
But I decided quickly that that was a terrible idea. If Jake did want to know that badly then he could ask Blake, and Blake could be the one to decide wether to tell him.
I opened the door to leave. But as I locked it back and turned around, I was faced with another girl doing the exact same thing.
Considering there was only one other penthouse on my floor and I had yet to meet the owners, I was spooked. I freaked and jumped back.
"I'm so sorry," the girl fretted. "Are you okay?"
I took a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm fine," I stuttered. "I guess I'm a little on the edge, that's all."
"Work?" The girl guessed.
I nodded. "Yeah. That must be it."
She smiled. "I totally understood." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Skylar. I guess we're neighbors."
Skylar was stunning. With platinum blonde hair and amazon goddess figure, it was hard not to be excited to hear that news. Before this, a part of me thought this was where the next rich serial killer lived.
I shook her hand. "I'm Alexa."
"So nice to meet you," she beamed. "Oh hey! Are those cookies?"
I held out the bag. "Help yourself."
She happily did so. "These look amazing. Did you make them?"
I nodded. As she was devouring them, a burning question couldn't be staved any longer. "So, uh, do you live here with your boyfriend?"
Skylar giggled. "How does one get one of those?" She joked. "No, I actually live by myself. When you're this busy, it takes living in a skyscraper to get some alone time. How about you?"
I sighed. "Boy troubles are the reason I'm leaving the penthouse in the first place."
"The single life is honestly the way to go."
"It's worked so far."
"Absolutely," Skylar grinned. "It's so nice to meet someone so similar to me. Beautiful, intelligent, and single. The neighbor life can't get much better than that."
"It's just nice to meet someone who isn't going to want to know my whole life story first," I confessed.
"I know the feeling," she said. "Well, hey, I do have to run. I'm late for a meeting. But please stop by sometime soon because we definitely need to hang out!"
"I'll bring cookies," I joked.
She brightened. "And brookies. Sugar is my weakness."
I watched her walk away and I wondered if that was actually true. No one could maintain curves like that eating as many cookies as she just did.