[Chapter 10: Jennifer Lopez]
Manhattan, the Upper East Side.
Inside the elevator of the Rox Apartments at the corner of 78th Street and First Avenue.
Orlando looked at the girl in front of him a few extra times.
She looked about twenty.
Under the elevator's dim light, her honey-toned skin shone with health, her thick curls fell over her shoulders, and her brows and eyes were perfectly framed. She had an incredible body.
She was an hourglass.
Judging by the muscle lines, she must have been dancing for years.
She wore a cropped top and low-rise pants that showed a flat, toned stomach; gold hoops swung from her earlobes. It was the sort of outfit meant for the stage.
Her face carried a bold, sexy red lipstick.
When she noticed he was staring, she gave him a friendly smile. "Hi."
A lively, sunny Latin vibe hit him -- vibrant and raw.
"Hi."
Orlando knew his stare had been too direct.
But luckily the Latina beauty didn't mind. She even looked a little pleased that her looks and body could attract a handsome guy like him.
This wasn't Orlando's ego talking. His empathic telepathy picked up her emotion.
In that way, his superpower was just unfair.
Without it, Daisy wouldn't have fallen for him in just a few weeks.
Telepathic empathy plus his looks and body -- when it came to chasing women, it was like having cheat codes.
"Do you live here too?"
He knew, honestly, he was a kept pretty boy now. He shouldn't be seeing anyone besides Daisy. But the Latina was stunning and the urge to make a move was real.
And if he got caught, well, he could still play his cheats.
There were only two of them in the elevator now, and they had already exchanged pleasantries. A little small talk wouldn't hurt.
"Yeah! I live on the fifth," the girl said with a smile.
The Rox building had fifteen stories. It had been built in 1910. It was old, sure -- but most Manhattan buildings were. Tear it down? Not likely. And they were expensive.
"Are you a tenant? I moved in six months ago, so I don't think I've seen you before," she asked, curious.
Tenant? Orlando almost scratched his head but held himself. "Sort of. I just moved in a few days ago."
"Oh, that's why I haven't seen you!" She nodded and glanced at the elevator buttons.
She noticed two lights were on; besides the fifth floor, the fourteenth-floor button was lit too.
That made her heart skip. After living here six months, she knew the top two floors were occupied by a very impressive woman. That woman took both top floors. The fifth floor was the landlord's small one-bedroom split for rent -- barely a hundred and fifty square feet. She paid twelve hundred a month for that tiny place, plus nearly two hundred in fees and taxes.
She had asked around about the duplex on the top floors. If it were rented out, the rent would start at twenty- to thirty-thousand a month.
This handsome guy lived upstairs too. Maybe he was related to that rich woman. Maybe her son?
No way. He looked a little younger than she was, and the woman upstairs looked to be around thirty. She couldn't have a son that old. Maybe a brother?
Ding--
Fifth floor arrived. The elevator doors opened.
"I'm off. Bye." The girl straightened her face and waved good-bye to Orlando.
Orlando smiled and waved back.
That girl's private thoughts had been interesting. He wasn't Daisy's son or brother. He was Daisy's "Sugar son". If Daisy wanted children, he wouldn't mind helping plant a few seeds -- provided Daisy did the rest.
---
After that small moment, the elevator continued to the fourteenth floor. Orlando stepped out and pulled the key Daisy had given him from his pocket.
He opened the apartment door and didn't see Daisy.
In the huge, luxurious duplex, he was alone.
"Daisy?"
"My Sweetheart?"
No answer.
He walked through the apartment and found a note on the dining table along with some cash.
Orlando frowned and picked up the note to read.
"Bad timing," he said to himself.
Daisy had written that she had a sudden business trip to Washington, D.C. She left in the afternoon at one and would be away for a while. She told him to hold down the place and that she would have Frank and Seymour keep an eye on the record company matters and the Warner deal. She said she would reach out to her contacts at Warner too.
She also knew he didn't have money and left him some cash, though she framed it as a loan so he could have some dignity. She told him to pay her back when he made money.
Orlando counted the bills. Five thousand dollars.
"I shouldn't have flirted with that other girl," he thought. "I'm sorry, Daisy!"
Feeling Daisy's kindness, he swore to repay her with billions when she returned.
But for now, he decided to go downstairs for dinner.
He'd been exhausted after devoting himself to Daisy the night before. They hadn't slept until after two a.m. He'd woken up early, pumped full of adrenaline. He'd spent the day running around with Frank, then recorded for hours. He'd eaten out at lunch and was hungry again.
He picked up the five thousand and was about to tuck it into his pocket, then thought better of it and took only five hundred.
In the Bronx, dealers and thugs would kill over twenty dollars. Walking around with five thousand would be asking for trouble unless he was surrounded by bodyguards or stayed in the sight of the police. He stashed the rest and left.
---
By luck or fate, the elevator stopped on the fifth floor again. The Latina he'd met earlier stepped in. She looked like she'd showered and removed her stage makeup. She'd changed out of the dramatic dance outfit.
Seeing Orlando, she gave him a demure smile. Her face now wore a pair of conservative glasses; she had on a blue shirt and a knit sweater, a bit plain. The dowdy outfit didn't hide her beauty -- she had a fantastic foundation.
"Hi, didn't expect to see you again," she said.
"Yeah," Orlando replied with a smile. "Jennifer, you heading out to grab something to eat?"
"Yeah. I can't cook in my apartment, so I eat out every day."
"Wait -- hold on." She looked puzzled. "How did you know my name?"
He already knew.
Jennifer Lopez -- a future star.
It wasn't that she had told him, nor had he asked someone else. His telepathic empathy worked that well.
*****
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