CHAPTER SEVEN | JOSH
Duke slammed on the brakes, causing the rubber tires to screech to a stop on the freshly poured black asphalt.
“So,” he said, flinging the gear stick into park, “What do you think?”
I blinked through the windshield of Duke’s fire engine red BMW Z4 convertible and gazed up at the cement behemoth that was planted ahead of us. The building looked like the sort of modern masterpiece that belonged on the cover of Architectural Digest: it was a mix of brick painted ashy black, vibrant planks of cedarwood, and giant glass windows that reflected the Connecticut River and the Hartford skyline.
“I get it, Williams,” I rolled my eyes from the passenger seat. “You’re rich. You didn’t need to take me apartment shopping to prove it.”
Duke Williams wasn’t just rich…he was loaded. The guy was from one of those ‘old money’ families that ruled Manhattan back in the day. To say that he was born with a silver spoon was an understatement; the guy was born into an entire empire.
How he ended up fighting fires with the rest of us in little ‘ol Hartford, Connecticut is beyond me. Also beyond me: why the hell I had ever thought it’d be a good idea to tag along with Duke on his search for a new apartment.
When he had approached me earlier that morning at the station and mentioned that he was in the market for new digs, I had naively assumed that tagging along might help my own apartment quest.
My application at Riverview Apartments had fallen through a few months earlier, and I hadn’t been able to get another place lined up in time for Brady’s wedding. So, I had been forced to crash with Logan Ford, one of my colleagues from Firehouse 56.
Crashing on couches was nothing new for me…I had been doing it for most of my adult life. But I was supposed to be growing up and proving myself, and as long as I was snuggling up on Logan’s faux-suede sectional every night, I wasn’t exactly making progress.
Unfortunately, finding a one-bedroom apartment that was near the station wasn’t proving to be a particularly easy feat. So, when Duke had bragged about finding the perfect spot, I felt like I had to tag along and see it for myself.
Now, blinking up the apartment building, I realized that this was just a waste of my time.
“Don’t you want to see the inside?” Duke grinned at me, sliding off his aviator Ray-Bans and tucking them in the neck of his v-neck.
“That depends,” I said. “Will they even let me in if my credit score is less than 800 and I don’t have a trust fund?”
“Come on, Joshy,” Duke ruffled my hair and grinned. “Open your mind a little!”
Opening my mind won’t add an extra decimal place to my take-home salary, I thought darkly as I popped open the passenger side door and climbed out of the convertible.
“You know you’re double-parked, right?” I asked, pointing down at asphalt. Duke had parked the Z4 directly over the white line, so his car was straddling two parking spots.
“So what?” he shrugged. Then he pointed to a sign that was posted directly above the parking spots: “It says Resident Parking, doesn’t it?”
I rolled my eyes and followed him towards the glass doors at the building’s entrance.
“There you are!” a voice called. I glanced up to see a tall blonde woman emerge through the double-doors. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”
“I’m right on time, baby,” Duke cooed, planting a kiss on the blonde’s cheek.
“Josh,” Duke turned back towards me. “I’d like you to meet Brie Wallace. She’s a real-estate mogul and longtime family friend--”
The blonde rolled her eyes and pushed Duke aside, then offered me her hand.
“Nice to meet you, Josh,” she said. Then, with a smirk, she added: “Don’t listen to a word Duke says. I’ve known him since we were both kids, and he’s always suffered from these delusions of grandeur.”
“I’m glad someone else has noticed,” I joked back. “The guys at the station and I were starting to worry about him.”
“You guys can sing my praises some other time,” Duke grinned. “Let’s go see this place!”
Brie guided us through the double-doors and towards an elevator.
“So the unit I’m showing you is technically a condominium,” Brie explained. The elevator arrived and the doors dinged open and we stepped inside.
“The owners moved out earlier this year. Divorce, super messy. The husband ended up getting this place, but he couldn’t stand living here on his own. He didn’t want to part with it, either, so now he’s renting it out,” Brie explained. The elevator doors sealed shut, and we were dragged upwards.
“So what does a place like this rent for?” I asked. The elevator was made of glass, which meant we got a view of the riverfront outside as we were swept up towards the building’s top floor.
“I want you to see the unit before we talk numbers,” Brie said. “But I will say that it’d be one hell of a deal…”
“Yeah it would,” Duke nodded enthusiastically. “This place technically isn’t on the market yet, but since Brie here is madly in love with me, she’s giving me first dibs.”
“What did I tell you” Brie muttered to me, rolling her eyes. “Delusions of grandeur…”
The elevator doors slid open and Brie led us down the hallway towards a cedar door that matched the siding on the building’s exterior. There was a lockbox on the door handle, and she popped it open to reveal a key.
“Ladies first,” Duke said, gesturing for me to enter the unit ahead of him. I rolled my eyes, but stepped over the threshold…and straight into the coolest damn apartment I had ever seen.
The walls were exposed brick, the same hue as the walls at the station. The ceilings were supported by thick cedar beams that matched the cherry-orange floor. The kitchen was modern -- all stainless steel, sleek, black stone countertops -- and the view of the Connecticut River through the floor-to-ceiling windows was phenomenal.
“There are two bedrooms through there,” Brie said, pointing towards the far end of the apartment. “Each has its own en-suite bathroom.”
“Two bedrooms?” I turned to Duke. “You in the market for a roommate, buddy?”
I was joking, but I wished that I wasn’t; the place was awesome.
“Funny you should ask,” he turned to me and smiled. “That might be why I asked you to join me here today.”
“Huh?” I frowned.
“I’ve got a phone call,” Brie said suddenly, holding up her phone even though it wasn’t ringing. “I’m just going to step outside for a few minutes…”
She stepped out through the unit’s front door, leaving Duke and I alone in the massive modern kitchen.
“What’s all this about?” I asked bluntly.
Duke seemed to ignore my question as he leaned forward on the black granite countertop and reached towards the stainless steel sink. He tested the faucet, pushing the sink handle up and releasing a stream of water. Then he flicked the faucet off and sighed as he glanced up towards me.
“Look, Josh,” he said slowly. “There’s something you should know…and this isn’t easy for me to say.”
“What is it?”
“I got cut off.”
“You got what?”
“I got cut off,” he repeated.
“Like…in traffic or something?”
“No, you doofus,” he rolled his eyes. “I got fucking cut off. Like, from my family’s estate…my trust fund…the foreign bank accounts…everything.”
“Are you shitting me?” I blinked across the kitchen at Duke.
“I wish I was,” he shook his head grimly. He crossed the kitchen towards a gas cooktop and he flicked on one the burners. A ring of bright blue flames ignited on the stove, and he tested the heat with the palm of his hand.
“This sucker gets really hot,” he said, impressed. “You like stir fry, Josh? I bet you could cook a mean stir fry on a stove like this. I’ve got this carbon steel wok that I use--”
“Shut up about the stove,” I said. I stepped forward and flicked off the burner’s nob, immediately killing the ring of blue flames. “Why is your family cutting you off?”
“Who the hell knows,” Duke shrugged indifferently. “They’ve been threatening to do it for years if I didn’t ‘clean my act up’ or whatever, but I never really took them seriously. Then a few days ago, I got a call that the annual payment for my Patriots season tickets had bounced. Then my AMEX was canceled, and I got a repossession notice for the Land Rover…”
Duke blinked up at me, and I saw probably the closest thing to humility that I had ever seen flash across his face.
“They served me with an eviction notice for the house, too,” he said. “I have thirty days to vacate.”
Duke had been living in one of his family’s palatial properties just outside of Hartford. When he told me that he was looking for a place of his own, I figured that he was looking for a change of venue. I never would have guessed that he was on the brink of homelessness.
“Well the good news is that we make a decent salary at Firehouse 56,” I told him as I crossed my arms and leaned back on the granite countertop. “The bad news is that we probably don’t make the kind of money that you need for a place like this…”
“That’s why I invited you here,” Duke said.
I raised an eyebrow and stared at him.
“Brie wasn’t kidding when she said this place is a steal,” Duke told me as he tested the hinge on one of the kitchen cabinets. “It’s still more than I can afford on my own, now that I’m poor or whatever, but if I was able to split the rent with a roommate…”
“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” I asked.
“Two words,” Duke said, holding up a finger to silence me. “Bachelor. Fucking. Pad.”
“That’s three words.”
“‘Fucking’ is an intensifying adjective,” Duke shrugged. “It doesn’t count.”
“Your ivy league education is really wasted on us, you know that?” I rolled my eyes.
“Come on, Joshua. What do you say?” Duke said, rubbing his palms together eagerly. “I know you’ve been trying to find your own place for months now, and I know you can’t be getting a lot of pussy if you’re stuck on Logan’s couch…”
That was only somewhat true. My game had suffered considerably in the last few months. But there was a reason for that; a reason that had nothing to do with the aphrodisiacal qualities of Logan’s faux suede sectional…
“I need to see some numbers before I’ll consider anything,” I said.
“Brie!” Duke hollered, his voice echoing through the walls of the apartment. “We’re ready for the numbers!”
On cue, Brie popped back into the unit. She met us in the kitchen with a sheet of paper breaking down the monthly expenses -- utilities, rent, cable, and the HOA fee. The total sum was already way lower than I would have guessed, especially for an apartment this awesome. But when the rate was slashed in half -- split between the two of us -- it was almost too good to be true.
“I told you it’d be cheap,” Duke said, hovering over my shoulder as we both stared down at the numbers. “I used to spend more than that on one night of bottle service at the club.”
My eyes flicked up to Duke. Could I actually tolerate living under the same roof as him? Wasn’t working together bad enough?
I glanced back down at the numbers.
For a place like this…I decided, I think I can put up with Duke Williams.
“Let’s do it,” I said.