CHAPTER TWO Juan waited nervously for the elevator. That could be a problem, knowing the time it took for one of these elevators to reach the penthouse floor. Why did Nicole have to be so stupid, insisting on the best apartment in the building? She was spoiled. He would see what could be done about that. The soft bell finally signalled the arrival of an elevator. Fresh chlorine from the health club pool permeated the lobby. He strode impatiently across the peach marble floor, past the concierge at the front desk, past the black and white sign that stood on a silver post. "All guests must be announced," he read, as one of the 24-hour doormen held open the door.
The penthouse had been her idea. It was located in a prominent neighborhood uptown, it had a view of Central Park, and being the top corner unit, it was the best apartment in the building. And why not? Nothing but the best. It had been difficult to get the two bedroom suite with a view of the George Washington Bridge. She had to prove a yearly income of $100,000. Not exactly an easy task when one did not work for a living. But it hadn't proved that difficult. She had her mother co-sign the lease and against all Juan's objections, she had secured the most sought after luxury apartment in Manhattan with the best view the Upper East Side had ever seen.
The mirrors were his idea. Juan's forte lay in creating illusions. True, they cosst $3000, not including delivery and installation, but they added so much to the wrap-around living room, making it appear larger, the expanse of view - towers, buildings, park and sky - doubled.
It gave her inspiration, it gave her peace of mind, but it did not bring her friends. Who cared? She loved being alone, anyway. She already had one enemy, the doctor across the hall. "What do you do?" he inquired of his new neighbor. "Nothing," she said.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
CH. ONE, Page Three
CH. ONE, Page Three
After turning their key into the third lock, they left their future home. The apartment itself was actually quite cute with polished hardwood floors and white walls, an oasis in the midst of chaos. Hanging plants and a variety of cacti thrived in the sunlight, which made its way through the black wrought iron bars into the tall narrow windows. Black shredded wallpaper framed the windowsill where white paint could not reach.
Debbie gazed out the back window where three walls of the building met to form an inner courtyard. Except there was no courtyard but a very steep drop which pulled her gaze further and further downward until it ended in a deep triangular space. She looked across the non-existent courtyard to the other two walls which joined this apartment to form the triangle.
Gaping windows faced the triangle on every side. Across the space, she could see curtained windows where a couple of other apartments had been salvaged, not unlike two stars twinkling on the blackest of black nights. {3 March 1962, 2:46pm. Leo rising, sun in Pisces, moon in Aquarius.} {sic}
After turning their key into the third lock, they left their future home. The apartment itself was actually quite cute with polished hardwood floors and white walls, an oasis in the midst of chaos. Hanging plants and a variety of cacti thrived in the sunlight, which made its way through the black wrought iron bars into the tall narrow windows. Black shredded wallpaper framed the windowsill where white paint could not reach.
Debbie gazed out the back window where three walls of the building met to form an inner courtyard. Except there was no courtyard but a very steep drop which pulled her gaze further and further downward until it ended in a deep triangular space. She looked across the non-existent courtyard to the other two walls which joined this apartment to form the triangle.
Gaping windows faced the triangle on every side. Across the space, she could see curtained windows where a couple of other apartments had been salvaged, not unlike two stars twinkling on the blackest of black nights. {3 March 1962, 2:46pm. Leo rising, sun in Pisces, moon in Aquarius.} {sic}
CH. ONE, Page Two
PAGE TWO
Debbie leaned against the door, shutting out the noises of the city. They found themselves locked into a world of cool, musty silence. A round mirror hung on the opposite wall, against a backdrop of peeling, yellowed wallpaper. There they stood reflected in the midst of charred ruin. The ornate high ceiling of a once exquisite lobby was blackened so that remnants of the design barely remained. A florescent light hung lopsided, suspended from a frayed cord which snaked its way into the cracked ceiling. In the dark recesses of the vacant lobby lay several locked doors.
A defunct elevator shaft stood to their left. Debbie felt compelled to press the button, but the somber brown door would never budge again. She studied the list of names accompanying buzzers which no longer rang.
"You have to call from the payphone across the street," Lori had explained.
Cautiously, they climbed the dusty stairwells, past a doorway showcasing the ashes of a former apartment, past boarded up windows, the nails pried loose. The few wood beams that remained propped up what ceiling there was left. The very clothes remained unscathed by fire in the closets of former occupants. They passed sturdy doors, securely locked.
On the third landing, a lamp was plugged in, its extension cord dangling precariously across the stairs and winding beyond the next corner into darkness.
Through the silent musty hallways they climbed, not knowing what lay beyond each landing, each step, looking behind them as they rounded each corner; with what little courage they had left, daring to look ahead; spiraling to the sixth floor.
Debbie took a deep breath. Her legs ached.
"Whatta you think?" Lori turned to Debbie.
Debbie leaned against the door, shutting out the noises of the city. They found themselves locked into a world of cool, musty silence. A round mirror hung on the opposite wall, against a backdrop of peeling, yellowed wallpaper. There they stood reflected in the midst of charred ruin. The ornate high ceiling of a once exquisite lobby was blackened so that remnants of the design barely remained. A florescent light hung lopsided, suspended from a frayed cord which snaked its way into the cracked ceiling. In the dark recesses of the vacant lobby lay several locked doors.
A defunct elevator shaft stood to their left. Debbie felt compelled to press the button, but the somber brown door would never budge again. She studied the list of names accompanying buzzers which no longer rang.
"You have to call from the payphone across the street," Lori had explained.
Cautiously, they climbed the dusty stairwells, past a doorway showcasing the ashes of a former apartment, past boarded up windows, the nails pried loose. The few wood beams that remained propped up what ceiling there was left. The very clothes remained unscathed by fire in the closets of former occupants. They passed sturdy doors, securely locked.
On the third landing, a lamp was plugged in, its extension cord dangling precariously across the stairs and winding beyond the next corner into darkness.
Through the silent musty hallways they climbed, not knowing what lay beyond each landing, each step, looking behind them as they rounded each corner; with what little courage they had left, daring to look ahead; spiraling to the sixth floor.
Debbie took a deep breath. Her legs ached.
"Whatta you think?" Lori turned to Debbie.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER ONE
It was on a blustery day in late April when she found it. Located in an up-and-coming neighborhood with new highrise apartments going up almost daily, it joined countless other tower suites in becoming new members of the most elite club of all, the Manhattan Skyline.
Juan was paranoid, as usual. Of course, it was the end of the line, as far as one could go before entering No-Man's Land. One could see Spanish Harlem itself from the tall windows which wrapped around the living room of their plush corner penthouse. His binoculars followed the curve of the windowsill, back across the treetops of Central Park, beyond the Upper West Side to the Palisades and finally left, to glimpse the highlights of midtown, high above the bustle and the crowd, an escape from commotion.
He supposed it would be inaccessible enough to suit his purposes. And he could always slip the doorman a fifty to deter uninvited guests.
Across town, not far away, Lori LaCosta and Debbie O'Donnell stood surveying the burnt exterior of the pre-war building that was to be their new home for the next three months. Boarded up windows overlooked charred marble balconies. Some windows lay empty, with nothing but soot to show for a more romantic era. To say that the locale hardly met their expectations of a post-college apartment would be pushing it. The chance to live rent-free until they found a job and a permanent home, here in the Big Apple!
"Just three months," Lori's sister had said. "Three months you can apartment-sit for me when I go on sabbatical. After that, I'll be back with Jim and you've got to be out."
Lori had informed Debbie of the tragic fire which had ripped through the building nearly a year ago. A coke dealer downstairs had gotten into trouble. Now his troubles were over forever, with one strike of a match. All the other tenants had escaped the pyromaniac's wrath, but their apartments had not. Only a handful had been salvaged. Nicki had come home from art class to see her security building in flames. She and her boyfriend Jim had worked hard to salvage the sixth floor studio that drained both of their savings month after month, their home. Now they could live here for free.
Crouching among the ashes in the basement of 606 Avenue A, the junkie peered through the hanging slats as the slender pair of legs, dainty in red patent leather pumps, walked by, followed by another pair of more shapely legs, padding past in small gold penny loafers. The two girls approached the cracked stone slab steps and opened the glass door upon which an urgent sign was posted: "PLEASE CLOSE DOOR TIGHTLY BEHIND YOU!"
OVERVIEW
OVERVIEW
Denise Hickey
Instructor: Mary Bringle
"So: You Want to Write a Novel?"
He was Vice President of the most innovative company to ever rise out of the Corporate Jungle of New York. She was a young, attractive woman whose all consuming desire for power and money knew no boundaries. Devastatingly attractive, with a violent energy that he could barely control, he was willing to sacrifice anything in his quest. A bright young man from an Ivy League College, his ambitions far exceeded anyone's expectations. Fresh out of college in a small farm town, she arrived on the scene. All she wanted was to meet and marry the man of her dreams. A world of young, attractive men and women with a greed for success, this is like taking a fast ride, in a fast car, through the corporate jungle that is New York.
0982D
Denise Hickey
Instructor: Mary Bringle
"So: You Want to Write a Novel?"
He was Vice President of the most innovative company to ever rise out of the Corporate Jungle of New York. She was a young, attractive woman whose all consuming desire for power and money knew no boundaries. Devastatingly attractive, with a violent energy that he could barely control, he was willing to sacrifice anything in his quest. A bright young man from an Ivy League College, his ambitions far exceeded anyone's expectations. Fresh out of college in a small farm town, she arrived on the scene. All she wanted was to meet and marry the man of her dreams. A world of young, attractive men and women with a greed for success, this is like taking a fast ride, in a fast car, through the corporate jungle that is New York.
0982D
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
INTRO
INTRO
Dangerously beautiful, she had the looks any cover girl would die for. She pursued great wealth across the globe, through a winding tunnel of the hottest nightclubs and the most elite dates on teh New York social scene, never dreaming she would become ensnared in the biggest scandal to ever hit the country.
Young and fresh out of college from a small farm town, she arrived in New York. All she wanted was to meet and marry the man of her dreams. But she had a talent that couldn't be ignored.
MORE TOMORROW! Take care, readers! See you at the beeeeeaaach! (Lynne? Coming? You have parking! :)
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