Novel Upper Westside Novels & Stories

The thing about Isabelle being in New York was that it changed the air pressure. Not dramatically. Not in any way that was visible or nameable on a given Tuesday or Thursday. But the city was smaller than it pretended to be Manhattan especially, which spread itself across an island and performed enormousness while actually being a collection of neighborhoods that overlapped and intersected in ways that made complete avoidance of any given person essentially a full-time project. Isabelle was in Midtown. The Calloway brownstone was on the Upper East Side.

As soon as she got out of the elevator on the first floor, she saw the taxi, which was already waiting for her. Gwen gave the address of the laundromat to the driver, who sped away. When they arrived, before getting out of the car to get the clothes, she asked him to wait. In less than ten minutes she was back in the vehicle, giving out Alexander's home address. Twenty minutes later, she paid the driver before climbing out of the backseat of the car, holding the hangers, and stopping, appalled, looking at the luxury apartment building on the Upper West Side. Walking to the entrance, she smiled at the doorman who held the door open for her. Inside, the interior was filled with sunlight. she g

She adores him and they get along well. I don't think Nicko is a burden but not having him with me all the time feels odd as much as it feels liberating. I can now move around freely and I can get my errands done. I have been on the Upper East Side all morning with Keller. He does catering on the side and he's been delivering all morning. He usually does it with his mom but she's not up to it. As he drove, I studied the tall beautiful buildings. The Upper East Side reminds of Alexander Christos. He brought me to one of these neighborhoods. I didn't know him well but I miss him. I miss him so much. He would have spoilt Nicko rotten!

days when the sun hit my skin just right, and that Manhattan skyline stretched like a promise across the horizon. My cheeks hurt from the way I was smiling as I handed over the keys to a tall, salt-and-pepper-haired man in a sharp suit. My latest client. The man had just purchased a stunning penthouse in the Upper East Side. The ink had barely dried on the contract before he shook my hand, his eyes warm with gratitude. "Thank you, Miss Russo," he said. "You make the apartment, and everything in it feels like falling in love again." Did I now?

"It's safe and upscale. You can stay there for now while I find a permanent place for you. If you're not feeling up to it, we can reschedule the shooting dates." I shook my head. "Work is the only thing keeping me together right now. I need to throw myself into it." She nodded. "Alright. We're here. Let's get you settled in, and then we'll discuss the rest." The apartment was in the Upper West Side, a place of luxury and solitude—everything I needed right now. Sloane gave me a quick tour and then we sat down to discuss my schedule. She was kind, patient, and understanding, but once she left, the loneliness hit me like a tidal wave.