She cocks her head with a slight smile. “You’re new to these parts, right?”
“How could you tell? The lack of tan?” I look down at my fish-belly white arms that sharply contrast with this woman’s perfectly bronzed skin. My skin is already starting to turn pink with the first hints of sunburn. Damn it. I thought I put on enough sunscreen.
“I was going to say you still look bright-eyed and hopeful. Plus you weren’t carrying your own water.” She holds out her hand. Her nails are deep scarlet, perfectly manicured, and way too long to be real. “I’m Roxy. Looks like we’ll be neighbors—I’m in unit 3C.”
I shake her hand firmly. “I’m Emery. Unit 4B.”
Now that I’m not ready to die of thirst anymore, I can get a good look at my new acquaintance. She has legs all the way from her ass to the floor, as my mother would say, although her stiletto sandals made me think that she’s taller than she really is. She’s wearing Daisy Dukes and a blue halter top that defies the laws of physics to contain her huge fake breasts. She’s also wearing enough makeup to spackle a wall—heavy foundation and bright blush, shimmery hot-pink lip gloss, a lush forest of false lashes, and plucked and penciled brows arching high over turquoise-shadowed eyes.
Overall, not the kind of person I’d usually pal around with. But she seems sweet. And in my sweat-soaked tank top, yoga pants, and tennis shoes, it’s not like I’m exactly dressed for success either.
“So, what brings you to the city of angels?” she asks. “Looking to make it big in Hollywood?”
“Actually, I have a summer internship at a law firm downtown. I start on Monday.” That’s as much as she needs to know. I didn’t uproot my whole life and move across the country to dwell on the past. I want to put my shiny new diploma to use, dive headfirst into my career—and leave a certain douchebag in the dust.
“Oh, wow! I could never do a high-powered job like that . . . way too much stress. I work long enough hours as it is.” Her dark brown gaze drifts over my shoulder, and her expression suddenly sours. “Ugh. Don’t look now, but . . .”
Of course, I look now. Over by the outdoor stairwell, two men in dress shirts and creased suits are talking. They’re both attractive, and one of them keeps stealing glances at us.
He seems around my age, maybe a year or two older. He’s ridiculously handsome with an angular jaw that has just the right amount of stubble, and a ready smirk that begs to be either slapped or kissed. His short dark hair is cut just long enough to grab onto, although why I’d need to grab onto it, I’m not sure. His broad shoulders and trim waist hint at some very nice muscles beneath his business attire. Even beyond his surface-level hotness, there’s something strangely magnetic about him, something that makes my stomach twist pleasantly just looking at him. Something that makes his slightest movement scream sex.
Feeling hot for reasons that have nothing to do with the actual temperature, I quickly turn back to Roxy before the man can notice my stare. “Who are those guys?”
“That’s Hudson Stone and Hayden Oliver. They’re the real-estate investors who own this building . . . a lot of buildings around here, actually.”
For real? They both look so young. Someone must have a rich daddy. I resist the urge to look over again.
“What’s so bad about them? Do they screw people over on rent or something?”
Roxy shakes her head. “Nah, everything that’s on paper is fine. These places are more than worth what you pay for them.”
God, I hope so. My new luxury condo is probably the biggest splurge I’ve ever made. Sometimes I still feel guilty about dropping that much cash, even if it is a good deal for a location in Hollywood Hills. But I figured that I deserve a treat after surviving law school on top of my latest breakup. Besides, if I’m going to walk the big-city lawyer walk, I should also talk the talk. “Dress for the job you want” doesn’t just apply to clothes, right?
I realize that Roxy has continued on without me.
“ . . . and Hudson is a pretty nice guy. He’s polite when he comes around, which isn’t often. But Hayden is the landlord here, and it’s him you want to watch out for. He’s fucked his way through half the single women in the city, even some of his own tenants. Treats his properties like an all-you-can-eat buffet. What a shameless piece of shit. And he lives upstairs in 5B, so nobody can get away from him without moving out.”
Her story feels like a bucket of ice water straight down my panties. A checkered past like that would kill anyone’s buzz, no matter how attractive the son of a bitch is. I’ve had enough of men who can’t keep it in their pants to last me a lifetime. Besides, I’m here to succeed, not sleep with my new landlord—or with anybody, for that matter.
I tamp down what’s left of my libido and nod at Roxy. “Good to know. Thanks for the warning.”