MasukThe apartment was on the fourth floor of a building that had seen better days. Probably in the seventies.
I stood in the doorway with the last of my boxes, staring at the empty space that was supposed to be my fresh start. The walls were beige, that sad kind of beige that wasn’t trying to be neutral, just existing because no one had bothered to paint over it. The floor was worn hardwood, scratched and dull, with a stain near the window that looked suspiciously like old water damage. One room. That was it. One room that served as bedroom, living room, and whatever else I needed it to be. A tiny kitchen area shoved into the corner with a two-burner stove, a mini fridge that hummed louder than it should, and about two feet of counter space. The bathroom was through a door so narrow I had to turn sideways to get my boxes through. But it had a window, a decent sized one that looked out onto the street below, letting in natural light that made the beige walls look slightly less depressing. “It’s not bad,” I said out loud, testing the words. They felt like a lie, but I said them again anyway. “It’s not bad for a fresh start.” The door clicked shut behind me, and suddenly the space felt even smaller. This was my home now. Not the townhouse with its exposed brick and vintage light fixtures, not the place where Ethan and I had slow danced in the kitchen and made love on lazy Sunday mornings. This cramped studio apartment in Queens that had taken every penny of my savings just to get into. First month’s rent, last month’s rent and security deposit. Jessica had tried to negotiate the broker’s f*e down, but the landlord wouldn’t budge. Three thousand dollars gone just like that, the money I’d been saving for years for emergencies or maybe a dream vacation, just gone. Although I never thought a day like this would come, that’s why it’s always good to save, no matter how little it is. I had eight hundred dollars left in my account, to feed myself until I found a job. Eight hundred dollars that absolutely could not go toward furniture or anything that wasn’t survival. I dropped the box I was holding and looked around at my pile of belongings, suitcases of clothes, boxes of books and picture frames, kitchen stuff I didn’t have room for, my lamp, and some few throw pillows. All of them sat in the middle of the empty floor because I had nothing to put them on. There was no bed, couch, table or chairs. It was just the floor and my stuff. I started unpacking slowly, my body still aching from last night with that motherfucker and from hauling boxes up four flights of stairs because the elevator was broken. I hung my clothes in the narrow closet that barely fit half my wardrobe. The rest were folded and stacked along the wall. The books went under the window in neat piles and the kitchen stuff in the cabinets, though I didn’t have much, just a few pots, some plates, mugs and silverware. I spread my bedding out in the corner farthest from the door, making a little nest on the hardwood floor with the sheets, blankets, and pillows. It looked pathetic, like a child’s fort, but it would have to do. The bathroom was the only part of the apartment that wasn’t terrible. It was small, but clean and manageable. It has white subway tiles that were a little cracked but not gross, and a shower with decent water pressure, which I tested immediately. The mirror above the sink was spotty, and the light fixture flickered when I turned it on, but what was I expecting? Definitely not something better than this. I caught my reflection and almost didn’t recognize myself. My hair was all over the place, tangled and greasy. My face was pale and drawn, dark circles adorned under my eyes that made me look ten years older. I looked exactly like someone whose life had fallen apart. “You need a job,” I said to myself. “Right now, today.” My degree was in Marketing and Communications from NYU. I’d graduated with honors, done internships at good companies, and worked my way up at Carter & Associates for six years. I was good at my job. Social media management, campaign development, and brand strategy. I could write copy, design graphics, and analyze metrics. I could get a job anywhere anytime. I had to get a job.We stood there in her living room, me crying and her holding me, until the buzzer rang with our food delivery.Natalie ordered me to wash my face while she got the food. By the time I came out of the bathroom with puffy eyes and splotchy cheeks, she had everything laid out on her coffee table. Pad thai, spring rolls, and curry that smelled amazing.I wasn’t hungry, but I forced myself to eat. Natalie was right, I needed to keep my strength up.“Marcus wants to meet with you,” Natalie said, spooning curry onto her plate. “He has questions about people in your life. Anyone who might have access to photos of you, anyone with technical skills, anyone who might have a motive.”“When?”“This weekend if you’re free. Saturday maybe?”I nodded, pushing noodles around my plate. “Did you hear back from Ethan? About meeting for coffee?”Natalie’s expression tightened. “Yeah. He said no.”“Of course he did.”“He was actually kind of rude about it. Said he had nothing to say to me and I should stop
I didn’t wait until I got home to call Natalie back. The second I stepped out of the building onto the Fifth Avenue, I hit redial, pressing the phone against my ear hard enough to hurt, but who cares?The street was packed with people rushing home from work, a river of suits and briefcases and exhaustion flowing around me.Pick up, pick up, pick up.“Ivy.” Natalie answered on the first ring. “Where are you?”“Just left work. What did Marcus find? What’s wrong?”“Are you somewhere you can talk? Like actually talk?”My stomach dropped. “Nat, you’re scaring me.”“I know. I’m sorry. But this isn’t a phone conversation. Can you come over?”“Now?”“Yeah. Please. I’ll order food. We can eat while we talk.”I looked at the subway entrance, then in the direction of Queens where my empty apartment waited. I didn’t want to go home, and sit alone with whatever bomb Natalie was about to drop.“I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” I said.The subway ride to Natalie’s neighborhood felt endless. My mind
“A few times. Usually just in passing. He’s intense but fair from what I’ve heard. Why, have you met him?”“Briefly. During the interview process.”That was technically true.“He’s single, you know.” Kelly had apparently been listening. “Every woman in this building has a crush on him. Rich, hot, powerful. The holy trinity.”“He’s also our boss,” James pointed out. “Pretty sure there are rules about that.”“Rules are meant to be broken.” Kelly waggled her eyebrows.“I’m not interested,” I said quickly. Too quickly, judging by the way Melissa looked at me.“Fair enough. Workplace romances are messy anyway.”They moved on to other topics, but I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in my stomach. Being here, working in Adrian’s building, knowing he was somewhere in this same tower, it felt dangerous. Like I was playing with fire.I made it through the rest of the day without seeing him. Small miracle. By five o’clock my brain was fried from information overload and I was ready to escape.I
My first day at Rhode Enterprises started with me throwing up in my new bathroom.Nerves, mostly. And the cheap instant coffee I’d tried to choke down for breakfast. I brushed my teeth twice, gargled with mouthwash, and stared at my reflection in the spotty mirror.“You can do this,” I told myself. “It’s just a job. Just work. You’ve done this before.”Except I hadn’t. Not really. Working at my father’s company had been safe, comfortable. Everyone had known me. I’d had my little office, my routine, my place in the hierarchy.This was different. This was starting over from scratch in a building full of strangers who didn’t know about my birthday party or the divorce or any of it.Fresh start, I reminded myself. That’s what you wanted.I put on my most professional outfit, a navy dress and blazer that Natalie had helped me pick out over the weekend. Did my makeup carefully. Pulled my hair back in a sleek ponytail. Looked at myself one more time.Professional. Capable. Definitely not som
“You’re really serious.” “Of course I am!” “No, I mean…” She stood up, walking over to me. “You really didn’t do it.” “I really didn’t do it.” She stared at me for another long moment, searching my face for any sign of deception. Then her eyes filled with tears. “Oh my God, Ivy. Oh my God.” “What?” “If you didn’t do it, then someone set you up. Someone went through all that trouble to destroy your life.” “I know.” “Who would do that? Who hates you that much?” “I don’t know.” It was the question that had been eating at me since the moment those photos appeared. “I’ve been trying to figure it out, but I can’t think of anyone. I don’t have enemies. I don’t have drama. I’m boring, Nat. I work and come home and have dinner with my husband and watch Netflix. Who would want to ruin that?” Natalie pulled me into a hug, sudden and tight. I nearly collapsed into it, all the tension I’d been holding finally releasing. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered against my hair. “I’m
Natalie’s apartment building was nicer than mine, not even close. There was a doorman in the lobby, an elevator that actually worked, and hallways that smelled like expensive candles instead of old cooking and mildew. Her place was on the eighth floor, a one bedroom with actual rooms instead of one sad space pretending to be everything. I stood outside her door for a full minute before I knocked, trying to steady my breathing and to prepare myself for whatever version of Natalie I was about to get. The disappointed one from the phone call, the broken one from the party, or maybe, hopefully, the real one, my best friend who knew me better than anyone. I knocked quite a few times before the door opened. Natalie stood there in her yoga pants and a crop top, her blonde hair up in a messy bun. She looked perfect, like she always did. Not a single sign that the last two days had affected her at all. “Hey,” she said, stepping back to let me in. “Hey.” I walked into her apartment







