*THE HOLLEN SERIES*
👨👩👧👦👨👩👧👦👨👩👧👦EPISODE 40👨👩👧👦👨👩👧👦👨👩👧👦
🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻
*👁🗨COFFEE AND PAPER👁🗨*
🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻
🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻
Emma’s POV
I instructed the cab driver to drop me off at an
ap@rtment complex in the city. I still didn’t
know my way around New York and had to be
wandering around like a mad woman,
especially now that I was alone and now
venerable to the open world. I couldn’t hire
security or buy c@m£ra systems like Ethan. But
I was grateful he had placed ten thousand
dollars in my personal savings account the day
after my birthday; although I had told him not
to and that I wasn’t after his money, he
insisted. Now, it c@m£ in handy along with the
other monies I’d saved from being his maid.
I arrived at a neat h0tel building, about five
miles away from the mansion. It was pri-vate
and there were security guards on the
compound.
“Hello, my name is Emma. I would like to rent
an ap@rtment. Are there any rooms available?”
I asked a elder woman in the main office.
She gazed up from her computer. “Hello, dear.
Yes, we have rooms available. I’ll nee-d a proof
of ID and a deposit.”
“How much?”
“What are you looking for– one be-droom,
two?”
“One.”
“We only have one-be-droom suites available.”
I nodded. “Yes ma’am, that’s fine.”
“It will be four seventy for the night.”
“Okay. Can I get that for the week?”
She nodded. “Do you have an account with
us?”
I shook my head.
“Extended stay? It will be twenty eight-twenty;
we’re running a deal this week. I’ll nee-d a
credit card for incidentals. How many keys will
you nee-d?”
“One,” I said, pas-sing her my credit card.
I would have to look for a job, there was no
way I would be able to stay here more than a
week; I’d b!ow all the money from the savings
account. My eyes fell on a news paper on the
counter t©p and I fli-pped throu-gh to the
clas-sified section.
She pas-sed me the key and returned my card
on the counter.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I apologized as I turned back
to the page she must have been previously
re-ading.
“It’s alright dear. You can keep it if you like.
I’m done re-ading it.”
“Thank you.”
“Here’s your room key. It’s room 709. Take the
elevator to the seventh floor,” she pointed
around the corner.
I thanked her and carried my suitcases,
struggling to juggle everything.
The room was convenient. There was a fridge,
stove, toaster, a washing machine, microwave,
air conditioner unit and a ceiling fan, a living
room, a separate slee-ping area with a king-
sized be-d and attached bathroom. It was nice
but everything seemed small to me after living
in a big, glorious mansion, but the suite was
spacious enough for my tiny b©dy.
I arranged my clothes in the closet and placed
my feminine products on a dressing table.
I looked at my phone. Ethan had gotten me a
new one since the one he first gave me was
smashed by his mother. There were no missed
calls from him.
I heaved a heavy sigh, took my purse and
headed outside. There was a supermarket right
across the street. I nee-ded something to eat
and I nee-ded groceries for my new
“ap@rtment”.
I had three plastic bags in tow, ma-king my
way back to the h0tel when someone ran up
behind me.
“Lemme help you with those,” he said,
cheerfully, and took the bags from my hands.
“Hi,” he greeted.
He was an average, six feet tall, medium built,
blonde hair, tanned skin with blue eyes. He
was no Ethan, but he was handsome.
“Thank you,” I said politely, and gave a smile.
“Which room are you in?” he asked as he held
the door open for me.
I hesitated to answer. I shouldn’t tell a stranger
that; I’d only just met him. He could be a
stalker or a serial killer or something.
“Oh, sorry if I c@m£ off too forward. I’m the
owner of the building. I stay in the penthouse,”
he said, realizing my sudden discomfort.
The woman at the front gave him a familiar
wave a said hello.
“Oh,” I answered in relief, “well, I’m in 709.”
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Emma; and you are?”
“I’m Roger. It’s nice to meet you, Emma.”
“The plea-sure is mine.”
We took the elevator in a bit of awkward
silence to the seventh floor.
“Well, here we are, 709,” he said, as we stood
outside my room.
“Thanks, Roger.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied and made his way
down the hall back toward the elevator. He
turned back and gave a smile.
I smiled back as I slowly turned my key into
the door. He has a nice smile with nicel-ips. I
didn’t know why I was blu-shing like an idiot. I
opened the door and walked into my room.
I placed my groceries in the kitchen and sat
down in the living room, going throu-gh the
clas-sifieds. What was it with me and old
people and newspaper? My eyes fell upon the
name of Ethan’s company. I heaved a sigh.
Why does his handsome face have to be there
to taunt me?
I continued my search on the page: waitress,
chef, h0tel manager, baby sitter, personal
as-sistants, receptionist, news reporter, and
str!ppers, too. I wanted to apply for them all,
except str!pping of course. Tomorrow, bright
and early, I would go out in search of a job.
I felt exhausted alre-ady and hungry. I made
myself a grilled cheese sandwich with a tall
glas-s of orange jui-ce. The afternoon sun was
just disappearing when I walked out on the
small patio.
My phone rang.
I looked at the caller ID but it was pri-vate. It
must be him. I let it ring. I don’t know why I
did that when I was hoping that he would call
to at least make sure I was alright.
It rang again; this time it was Halley’s
number.
He must be using Halley’s phone or put her up
to this.
I s£nt it to voicemail.
I found enjoyment in the calls then switched
my phone off for the rest of the evening.
A knock c@m£ on my door softly after I
returned inside. I jumped up from my chair
with a rush.
Who’s that at the door? Has he found me
alre-ady? Did he pay someone to follow me?
Thank goodness there was a peephole on the
door. I looked throu-gh and saw a smiling
cheerful face. I opened the door.
“Sorry to disturb you, Emma, but I’m having a
dinner feast in my suite to celebr@te my
birthday and I was wondering if you’d like to
come. It begins at eight.”
“Happy birthday,” I said, trying to sound as
excited as he was.
“Actually, it was yesterday, but will you come
by?”
“I’ll drop by, but maybe only for an hour or so.
I have something important to do tomorrow so
I’ll nee-d my sleep.”
“Okay. Thanks, Emma.”
_________
At eight, I had watched people piled into his
suite. I even made out the old lady who had
been at the reception table in the main office. I
slowly made my way up, wondering if I should
really attend or go back and lock myself in the
ap@rtment, but my feet were carrying me
forward. I had to start socializing and bonding
with people around me. I couldn’t just shut
myself out from the world and become a
complete stranger to everyone.
The world isn’t a bad place, there’s just bad
people in it, so I’ll just have to watch my back.
Always watch my back.
“Hello, Emma; glad you c@m£,” Roger greeted
as I c@m£ throu-gh the door; he was wearing a
formal suit.
His penthouse was hvge. The place was
beyond amazing; It looked so simple and plain
on the outside. There was even a pool, which
was occu-pied by some trashy looking young
ladies in bikinis. A DJ was pla-ying some really
hyped music. Everyone was alre-ady dancing
and drinking. Waitresses and servers pas-sed
around with drinks and f!nger foods. A smiling,
young guy gave me a glas-s of nonalcoholic
sparkling drink.
I began to laugh really ha-rd along with
everyone when the old lady got on the dance
floor; she was boogying with her cane.
Everyone cleared the floor and began chanting
and cl@pping for her; I joined in.
“My grandma is crazy,” Roger said behind me.
“Oh, she’s your grandmother?”
“Yeah,” he leaned in closer to my ear so I
would hear him over the loud music. His
manly scent was wonderful. “Wanna dance?”
“Um… No… I don’t… dance,” I loudly said
back in his ear.
“Oh come on, Emma. It would be fun.”
With that, he took me to the dance floor and
everyone started dancing with a p@rtner to
Neyo ft Pitbull’s “Give Me Everything”.
Everyone was swaying to the beat and the
hype of the song and I fell into trance too.
*TO BE CONTINUED*