Page 27 of Fifth Avenue Flirt

“No,” says Poppy simply.

We walk around the ground floor, taking in the kitchens, the laundry rooms, the staff quarters, as well as all the guest areas, then we take the stairs to look at the first floor of bedrooms.

“They’re all the same on this floor,” Sujoy says. “And every floor repeats this one except the top, where it’s all-suites.”

We enter the first bedroom. It’s a typical hotel setup. Closets on one side as you come in, bathroom on the other, with a bedroom beyond. They’re not huge, but they’re not as small as a lot of New York bedrooms.

“We wouldn’t be able to make each room individual in the way we have in Hotel on Ninth Street,” I say.

“Why not?” Poppy asks.

“Because every room is the same. It’s not the same at Ninth Street.”

“Because we have the corner rooms. But it hasn’t stopped us making each room unique. We can do that here as well.”

I shrug. She’s right, and there’s an advantage to having each room the same. It keeps it simple.

I’m just looking for reasons not to like this site. I’m still holding out hope that while we’re looking in New York, there’s going to be a Boston miracle and the owner of the site we found will change his mind and decide to put it back on to the market.

“I think this has great potential,” Poppy says.

“We need to look at more places,” I reply.

“Totally understandable,” Sujoy replies. “You want to make the right decision. Actually, something else just came up this morning. We don’t have a site plan or even photographs, but I can take you now if you have time? If you like this place, then I think you’ll love this new one.”

I internally groan. This place is good enough. I don’t want to see another place that’s even better. I want the commercial real estate opportunities in Manhattan to completely dry up for us. I have to believe that if I just get a little more time, I can still make Boston happen.

NINE

Ben

This week hasn’t been the best on record. It’s Friday night, I’ve spent the entire day in meetings, and I want to blow off some steam with a friend, not people I’m friendly with.

I text Deacon and see if he’s around. It’s nine, but he might be up for a late supper. He used to be busy every Friday night because he had custody of his daughter, but now he alternates Saturday nights with his ex, so he might be around.

For some reason, I think about Avril too. Not that we’re friends or anything. I really hated having to turn her away earlier in the week. Partly because the problem she was describing seemed to be something I could really help her with, and also because I like her. I felt like a dick saying no, but I’d feel like a bigger dick if I said yes and then things developed between us. I’d never be clear if she liked me just because I helped her, and I can’t bear that thought.

My phone buzzes in my hand. It’s Deacon.

“Hey,” I say, answering.

There’s a commotion in the background, and I struggle to hear what he’s saying. “Come out,” he yells down the phone. “We’re just going into Karaoke Junction on Perry Street. You know it?”

“Karaoke?” I ask. That seems like a very un-Deacon thing to be doing.

“Yeah, the girls want to go. Come along.”

My heart thuds in my chest. The girls. I bet he’s including Avril in that. Aurora seems to be firm friends with her boss. I don’t know if it’s a good idea or a bad idea to put myself in martini range of Avril. I’m likely to end up wearing one.

But it would be good to see her, even if she does toss a drink at me.

“I’m about two blocks away.”

“No excuse, then. See you in a few.” He hangs up, and I shove my phone back in my pocket.

Is karaoke really the way I wanted to blow off steam tonight? Almost certainly not. But if Avril’s there, it might be fun.

I’m padding down the stairs to Karaoke Junction within ten minutes. I scan the heads of the patrons, but I can’t see Deacon. Or Avril.