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Her voice was low, but her mother heard her loud and clear. She turned and sent her a brief and small smile. Eventually, we were left alone, and she turned around to give me a smile of her own, this one way more significant.
“Do you have another appointment after this? I’d like us to talk more. My studio is within walking distance from here.”
“Your studio?” I asked, wondering if by some strange twist she was a photographer as well.
“Yes, I'm an artist and I paint,” she replied, and I nodded. I didn’t have anything else planned, so after giving her request a little more consideration, I instantly agreed.
In no time, we were out of the wedding store, mainly because Madelyn didn’t seem to want us there anymore, which made me wonder just how rich they were, that Madelyn and seemingly everyone else were more important than the bride and her opinions for her own wedding.
I didn’t want to pry, however, so even when we got into the car, I kept my mouth shut and my curiosity to myself and only spoke when I was spoken to.
We had found the sun too scorchingly hot, so the moment we got out onto the street, we decided that taking a taxi would be best.
I had no qualms whatsoever with this, so soon enough, we were riding in the back of the car together. Her studio, surprisingly to me, was in her apartment. But it was so big that it had its own section that it seemed apt. The tall wall-length windows were what took my breath away, and when I realized that this section was the size of my entire apartment, I couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous. I had thought her to be just like one of us, the suffering peasants of the city, but it turned out that her family was wealthier than imagined. Or maybe this was all her? Artists made exorbitant amounts of money. I didn’t want to pry, though; after all, my job was to support her in the best way I could, like I had promised, and make her moments as memorable as they could be.
So, I decided then to be as completely honest with her as possible.
“I would kill for your apartment,” I said, and she smiled in response.
“I understand. I would do the same as well. It used to be about three apartments
including the elevator. I fell in love with the windows and lighting from outside first before anything else, but when I approached the tenants to rent them out of the place, there was a war. One didn’t even care about the amount and just wanted to ensure, according to her, ‘privileged brats like me don't get their way.’”
“Oh no,” I said. “This must have been tough.”
“It was,” she said, but luckily, that was where my brother came in. His name is Drake Moran.
“He immediately found the actual owners of the apartments and bought them all out. By the following week, renovation had started to turn all three apartments and the elevator in to one apartment, and I couldn’t believe it.”
“By the way, I felt guilty about kicking them out, but Drake made sure that they were well compensated.”
I could see that she felt a little guilty and judged, but I quickly waved this concern away.
"No need to defend your desire,” I said. “If I had the means, I'd do the same. That's how life works, and if I really wanted to get back at you, if I were one of the tenants, I mean, I'd work hard and ensure to buy it all back and ensure that you wouldn’t have access to it. All is fair in love, war, and hustling for New York apartments.”
She laughed at this, and I couldn't help but delight in her breezy laughter. It was pure and light, such a welcome contrast from how upset she had seemed earlier.
“Alright, let me make us some tea or coffee?”
“Tea,” I replied. “I'm trying to cut back on the caffeine.”
“Just like my brother,” she said and headed over to the kitchen.
Once more, her brother Drake was mentioned, and I couldn't help but be curious about this famous tyrant that was controlling the entire family and not letting anyone get their way.
“He’s quite strict with his life and by extension everyone else around him,” she said as she filled a kettle with water and set it on the stone.
She continued speaking.
“One day he noticed how dependent he had become on caffeine to perform at full capacity, and he absolutely hated it. He said it was a weakness he couldn’t tolerate, and so within the following week, he had immediately switched to tea.”
“Wow,” I couldn’t help but think. He sounded extremely uptight; however, she didn't seem to think so and was even smiling as she narrated, perhaps without realizing it.
“There's a lot of things I love and respect about him, but these days he's being so anal that I can't really think of one. Why am I even talking about him? How did he come up?”
Once again, I was amused by her slightly unhinged personality.
“Anyway, enough about him. Please take a seat. I’ll be right there with you.”
