Free The Super: A Bad Boy Romance by Anne Connor Page A

all steel and wood, and their voices bounce off the walls and the banisters.
    I peek my head over the railing to get a look at them. It’s three guys, like I thought. They’re not bad looking - probably in their late 20s, nice suits, nice ties. If I could see their watches and their shoes, I’m sure I’d be able to see that those accessories are nice, too. They look like guys who would be friends with Drew. Maybe they actually are his friends. His colleagues, even.
    It’s nice. Good location. And it actually doesn’t need much work. Just knock down a few walls and make the units bigger .
    My heart sinks into my Chuck Taylors. What the hell? Even though I just moved into the building, I know what they’re talking about.
    Years ago, when I was a kid and my family lived in the apartment I was born in, the building was sold to investors just like these guys, and we were forced to get up and move.
    I guess, technically, we weren’t forced to move. We had the option of buying the apartment after the new owner renovated and converted it to a condominium. But with the only options being purchasing it for an amount of money that was way beyond my parents’ reach and moving into another rental, it really wasn’t a choice at all.
    And now, I guess it’s happening with this building, too. This time, I’m one of the lucky ones. I haven’t made a lifetime of memories here, like some of the older tenants have.
    We just have to get the old guy to sell. Shouldn’t be too hard.
    And they talk like arrogant jerks, just like Drew does.
    As I’m leaning over the banister, my hair falls into my eyes. I move to brush it away and my keys jingle in my hand. The three men one flight down from me direct their gaze upward.
    Shit!
    I’ve been caught staring at these guys. What is it with me and getting caught looking at rich dudes?
    But this is nothing like when Drew caught me staring at him. I’m not interested in these three guys.
    Wait. I’m not interested in Drew, either.
    By now it’s dead silence in the stairwell and I feel like a complete dope.
    Someone up there? One of the voices makes its way up to me.
    I glance over the banister to them, each of their faces peering up at me. One looks impatient. Two look amused. I can tell that as soon as they realize it’s a lady who was spying on them, their attitude has changed.
    Like I’m not a threat. It doesn’t matter if I hear their plan to make the building into something it’s not.
    “Oh. Hi. Hey.”
    I peek over the railing at them and wave, my keys jingling in my hand again. I squeeze them to stop them from making so much noise.
    “Hello, Miss,” one of them says, waving to me.
    “Hi. Sorry for interrupting. I was just trying to get my keys.”
    “Do you need help finding them?” another one of the guys calls up to me.
    “No, I’m fine.” I walk backwards away from the railing until my back is against the wall of the hallway outside my apartment and their faces have disappeared.
    “Sorry for interrupting you! Have a good evening!” I call out, jamming my key into the lock on my door and slamming it shut behind me.
    Those guys have some nerve, trying to make me feel like an intruder in my own home.
    Maybe I’m being overly judgemental again. What were they doing wrong, anyway? They were just standing around the building. I was the one eavesdropping. Maybe they’re even friends of Drew’s.
    They certainly dress like it.
    I drop my purse down on the kitchen table and make my way into the kitchen to pour a big glass of wine for myself.
    I might need a bigger glass to be able to wipe out all thoughts of Drew Anderson.
     
    “You are absolutely more than welcome to come over, but I don’t know how much fun I’ll be.”
    This is not my idea of a Sunday afternoon - especially not right before starting my new job. There’s a drip coming from the pipes under my kitchen sink, and I’m not getting through to the owner of the building. I called a few times this morning