Page 7 of The Boyfriend Experience

There’s a wide living room surrounded by windows on all sides and I catch a glimpse of my terrace.

“Is that Lawton Ayers?” a woman’s voice calls from… somewhere. The space is a wide-open floor plan and the few walls I can see don’t reach all the way up to the tall two-story ceilings.

When I look up at the beamed ceiling I notice a loft space and my eyes follow the perimeter catwalk railing made of stainless-steel cables until I spy bedrooms. Three, I decide. Her decor is simple and homey. A large u-shaped overstuffed brown leather couch facing a stacked stone fireplace takes up one corner, while a long wooden dining table takes up another. There’s a large room-sized rug surrounding the couch—brown and white cow pattern. Not real hide, but that one accent is enough to pull the room together. Give it a feel. Western. Very Colorado. Almost cowboy, but missing all those cowboy things you find in ranch homes. Like a buffalo over the fireplace and pictures of hunting dogs on the wall.

Instead the walls along the catwalk are decorated with framed posters of her beer labels. Original artwork, probably. They are all very graphic in their design. An orange bucking horse on a brown background with lots of black swirly typography. A pink punk rocker on a black background with pink typography. And more. Every brew I’ve ever seen in the local bars—and many I’ve never heard of—all displayed along the walls.

Her history, as art.

The kitchen is in the center of the floor space. Black soapstone countertops with painted taupe-gray cabinets. Stainless-steel appliances and one of those industrial stainless-steel farm sinks that matches the stainless-steel finishes on the cabinet pulls, light switch plates, and backsplash tiles.

It’s totally custom from top to bottom. She put a lot of thought into her design. And it’s nice, I decide. Something I’d pick. If I were renovating a house for myself and not for some future generic buyer. Something that merges with the view outside.

And speaking of the view—Jesus Christ, she can see all of Colorado. Which makes me laugh. The entire front range is laid out in front of me, including the imposing Mt. Evans on the west side, Pikes Peak to the south, Long’s Peak to the north, and in the east… sprawling Denver suburbia.

This apartment has to be worth millions. It’s so unusual, so big, so… perfect. I’d list this place for two million, easy. Maybe more.

“Holy shit,” I finally say. “This place is incredible.”

“You are Lawton, right? Because if not, you need to leave.”

“Sorry,” I say, walking towards her with my hand outstretched. She’s average height. Her hair is long, dark blonde, and unruly. Like she’s been at the beach and the wind has tousled it.

Or like she just rolled out of bed.

Or like someone just fucked her hard.

I snap out of it. “I just got lost for a moment. Your view…” And then I get lost in her eyes. An unusual caramel color, with hazy patches of green that catch the light. And she has thick, pouty lips—with a slight dent in the middle of her lower one that, for some reason, is inexplicably sexy. Her face is soft, but not round and her body is slight, but not skinny. Athletic, I decide.

She smiles tightly as she shakes my hand. “The view. I know. It’s the only thing anyone sees when they come up here.”

That’s not true at all. Not if she’s around. The view is definitely beautiful, but Oaklee Ryan is downright breathtaking. “But… do you live here?”

“Both live and work.” She shrugs. “It’s been my home my whole life. But I did this last year.”

“But that elevator just comes right to the top like that? No key?”

“I keep it open during business hours and I was expecting you. It locks when I need it to.”

“Oh, well, good. I was worried about your safety for a second.”

“Sweet,” she says. Then nothing.

“So,” I say, rubbing my hands together. “I’m your boyfriend.”

She looks me up and down like she’s not sure if that’s accurate. “Hmm.”

“What?”

“I’m just thinking…”

“About?”

“If you’re right for the job.”

I squint at her. “I’m totally boyfriend material. I can play your game. I mean, I guess I could’ve come up here and played like I got lost looking for the bathroom and found you instead. The woman of my dreams.” I wink at her. “Made it a little more mysterious like Jordan told me to… but the view,” I say. “This place… it caught me off guard.”

She cups her chin with her hand. Thinking. Wondering. “Well, I have doubts. So tonight is an interview.”