Page 135 of From Me to You

And writing. I wrote all day, every day, whenever I could find the time. And all I wrote about was him. Sometimes I wished I had amnesia so I could forget everything and get a fresh start. But God still wasn’t answering any of my prayers.

I limped to the subway station. A good thing about where I lived was that it was only a thirty-minute train to the city. Though the morning rush hour that crowded the train was horrible. Especially when I couldn’t move as fast as the rest of them.

And in NYC you needed to walk fast.

Somehow, I made it to the Central Park station in one piece. I limped through Fifth Avenue to reach the ‘Blueline’, one of the main residences of my work. I had the fanciest job a girl could ever hope for. When I came to the city of dreams, filled with loss and despair, this was the only job I could find.

I was a maid/cook for the New York elites. Yes, I wasn’t a writer. When you have to pay a debt that you never can in thislifetime and pay the bills on top of that, beggars cannot really be choosers.

I sighed as I went inside.

“Hey, Gabe.” I greeted the building manager/my best friend.

This place was so bougie that it had a reception and a security team. Plus, there was a private entrance in the basement.

Unlike the white mansions in L.A., I loved this place. It was decorated with only the most expensive things, but it still felt so warm and welcoming.

“Hey, chica.” Gabriel waved enthusiastically in my direction.

Gabriel was my first and only friend in the city. I was blessed to have found a friend like him. He got me through some of the hardest moments of my life. Moments that I wasn’t proud of.

I rolled my eyes as I walked over to him.

Gabe was a Latino in his thirties who flirted with just about everyone. The housewives in this building ate it up. But little did they know he swung the other way. He was happily living with his boyfriend of seven years.

I sighed. Jay and I would have been together for ten years if we were still together.

“Here, the assistant couldn’t be here so she left this for you. Apparently, we need to sign an NDA.”

Woah. NDA meant it was someone famous or important.

“Who is it?” I asked him as I signed the paper. It was a pretty basic NDA—I knew since I had signed a few after I started working with the housekeeping company where I was employed.

Gabe shook his head. “I know everything about this building, but this is very hush-hush.” He leaned over to whisper to me, “Do you think it’s some politician buying the penthouse for his lady?” He wiggled his brows. “If you know what I mean.”

I laughed. “Maybe, who cares? I just want to get the job done so they will pay me.”

“You are no fun, chica. So, what about Marcus? Have you said yes to his date?”

I sighed. “Not really.”

“Please don’t tell me you are still thinking about that asshole ex of yours. You need to go out there and get over him. Trust me, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. And with the cobwebs you have going on down there, you need some action, chica.” Gabe explained in a dramatic manner.

“Don’t call him an asshole,” I hissed at him.

Gabe shook his head. “You are going to be alone forever.”

“I know,” I mumbled. “Where do I have to take this?”

“Just leave it to me. I will mail it to her. I have mine signed too.”

“Okay. I will see you later.”

“Oh, wait,” he handed me a piece of paper. “Here. This is the new code.”

I nodded as I waved to him.

The paper read 012314. I frowned. The number was vaguely familiar for some reason.