Heat Clinic (Heatverse) by Alexis B. Osborne

Author:Alexis B. Osborne [Osborne, Alexis B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781957341200
Publisher: Dark Moon Publishing
Published: 2023-03-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

TOM

Sam and Emily have such different reactions to our arrival in the city. Both are fun to see in their own way. Emily watches the city line quietly through the window as we weave our way toward home on the West Side of Manhattan. Sam gawks like an eager puppy, asking question after question and barely waiting for the answer to the first before moving onto the next.

And then we’re home at last. Marcus pulls up to the front of our building and idles in the marked delivery area. We pile out, and I help him pull the suitcases and bags from the trunk as our doorman Bobbie brings out a brass luggage cart around and helps us load everything.

“See you upstairs,” Marcus says as he leans down and kisses me before getting back in the car to go park it in our spot.

“Welcome back, Mr. Orello,” the doorman says after he’s loaded the last of our mountain of luggage. “You have some packages at the front desk when you’re ready to collect your mail.”

“Thank you.” I gesture to Emily and Sam and introduce them. “They’ll be staying with us for some time. This is Emily, and that’s Sam.” Bobbie pushes the heavy cart inside and summons the elevator, and we wait for its wrought iron door to open. It creaks and squeals as it descends to the lobby.

“Is this thing safe?” Emily leans closer and asks in a low voice.

“It’s existed since nineteen-oh-one when the building was finished,” I say. And then I lean down so my mouth is by her ear. “What if today is the day its chain snaps?”

She narrows her eyes and pokes me in the ribs, and it bloody hurts. “Mean.”

Perhaps I was teasing her a little too much if she’s actually afraid of it. It’s hard to reign in the sarcastic brat side of me that comes so naturally after spending the last two decades with just Marcus. We’re still getting to know one another. It’s going to take some time for everyone to adjust.

“We could take the stairs if you prefer, although I warn you it’s seventeen stories,” I say.

Emily glances at the iron railed stairs at the end of the marble hallway. “Rickety death trap it is.”

“It passed its inspection this spring. If that makes you feel better, miss,” the doorman says.

She smiles at him, then glances at his nametag. “It does. Thank you, Robert. The building is beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it. How long have you worked here?”

He enjoys her attention, his round cheeks pinkening as he adjusts his black cap on his balding head. “Call me Bobbie, miss. I’ve been a doorman here since I was sixteen, and my father before me. Here we are. Let me settle this first, and then I’ll hold the doors for you.”

When the door opens, he loads the cart inside, then holds it for us and selects our floor. It creaks and squeals as it climbs, slower than a modern elevator but a hundred times prettier and authentic to such a grand old building.

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