Novel Upper Westside Novels & Stories

The words landed heavier than they should have. The SUV slowed outside a nondescript brownstone on the Upper West Side. To the world it looked anonymous, no security cameras, no lights. Inside, the air smelled faintly of cedar and steel. Every line of furniture was precise, functional, masculine. “You live here?” she asked as he punched in the code. “When I have to vanish,” he said. “You’re off the radar here.” He set her overnight bag on the narrow table by the door. Their movements…small, domestic, strange after months of boardrooms and chandeliers felt suddenly too intimate.

# Chapter Fifteen: Family Dinner Weston Cade's townhouse in the Upper East Side was the kind of beautiful that announced itself immediately and aggressively — antique furniture arranged with museum precision, a chandelier that had probably cost more than Ivy's entire restaurant business plan, and a housekeeper who took Ivy's coat with the practiced neutrality of someone paid handsomely not to have opinions about the guests.

The balcony of the West Penthouse was a windswept plateau of glass and steel, suspended fifty stories above the gridlock of Manhattan. Sienna stood at the railing, wrapped in a cashmere cardigan that belonged to Aria. It smelled of lavender laundry detergent—a scent so wholesome it made Sienna’s chest ache. Inside, through the floor-to-ceiling glass, she could see Noah and Aria in the living room. Noah was on the phone, pacing. Aria was in her wheelchair, reviewing a stack of invoices.

"If the money's right, I'll do whatever it takes." ​He narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. "There's a new private club that just opened on the west side of Merrihaven. It's right in the heart of the wealthy district, and they're understaffed." At the mention of the wealthy district, my spirits instantly lifted. I looked at Uncle Mike and said, "I'll work harder than anyone. I won't let you down!"

"Whichever you prefer." She looked to Bobby. "Michael told me about this part, cher. I want to know that you're safe when you go to work." "Can you imagine living and working on the upper west side? That townhouse is only a few blocks from here." Her voice was thoughtful. Bobby smiled happily. "I can imagine the hell out of it." Brian unpaused the video. "At any rate, I'll leave you and Murph to work out the details. I just have one more thing."

9. Trent leaves the hospital and boards a bus for the West Side. We have traveled through this area often with Bill, its avenues like the treads of a scuffed and shit-speckled sole. The sidewalks fronted by grimy restaurants and dim stores, filled with people sucked dry and wrinkled by their problems. In a year or two, the luxury condos and trendy coffee shops will arrive, and these crowds will need to find new, worse places to live. As an entity who suffers from what the news calls “housing insecurity,” we sympathize with their plight.

And the fourth option was a magnificent Neoclassical mansion standing firmly in the Upper West Side—an elite neighborhood with exceptionally high privacy, home to some of the world’s top billionaires. My gaze settled on the fourth option in the Upper West Side. Its design was elegant, with an enormous backyard and a sophisticated, multilayered security system. Its price was far above that of the other luxury homes in the catalog, but the price was not an issue for me. “I’ll take this one,” I said, pointing to the mansion in the Upper West Side. “Arrange a viewing.” However, before Lidya could process my order, my personal phone lying on the table suddenly rang loudly. A very familiar name ap

Even when he grabbed a book to distract himself, the words blurred and refused to sink in. By one in the morning, unable to bear it any longer, he dressed again and headed out. This time, he drove himself to the Upper West Side. The area was quiet, the night broken only by the soft spill of light from a handful of townhouses. He cracked the car window and lit a cigarette, drawing on it absentmindedly. Smoke curled around him, sharp and acrid in the cool air. Halfway through the cigarette, he took out his phone and dialed Ava.

She needed stability, even if only the kind a proper apartment could offer. --- The search for a new home consumed most of her day. Olive wandered through neighborhoods, touring cramped apartments and overpriced studios. Nothing felt right. The city was bustling, alive, and noisy—everything Olive wasn’t in the mood for. By late afternoon, she stumbled upon a small, quiet building on the Upper West Side. The realtor, a kind woman with a warm smile, led her through the space. “This is a cozy one-bedroom,” the realtor said as she pushed open the door. “It’s fully furnished, has a decent kitchen, and plenty of sunlight.”

Nicole came closely, whispering in my ear, almost hard for me to hear as the loud music still thumps in my ear, "you know, if there's one person you would want to break all your rules to, it's Ezra Sommers, Demie! -- hot, mysterious, and I bet you won't regret it!" I sighed, thinking that she was talking nonsense, "yeah right, Nicole! I appreciate your concern, but that's never gonna happen! -- I mean, look at me?! look at all this!? there's no way in hell he would even notice me!" I said, gesturing my hand trying to prove my point. Seeing all these up-scale people, looking lavish, and high maintenance, compared to me in my white sneakers and crippled outfit that I've worn since breakfast, m