Just Another Damn Love Story Read Free Page B

to get on the ball, and get some designers in here and get this thing off the ground.  Also, we need to find someone to run the whole kit and caboodle.  Think we can steal someone from another fashion house?”
    “With what you pay?”  Wilson asked with a smile.  “Not likely.”
    Sterling laughed.  “Let’s just keep our eyes and our options open.”
     
     
     

 
     
     
    Chapter Three
     
     
    Kim absolutely loved her apartment.  She had managed to secure a primo two bedroom apartment smack dab in the middle of Times Square.  Her building, 1600 Broadway, was legendary for its location and views.  Her apartment over looked the famous Candy Factory just off of the square.  In fact, she could take in the New Years celebration from the comfort of her living room, or venture out onto her balcony to listen to the countdown and watch the ball drop. 
    1600 Broadway had concierge service, on-site parking, a rooftop swimming pool and recreation area, and an in building spa and workout center. Her father’s credit and financial support had really helped her living situation.  She wouldn’t trade her apartment for any in the world.
    Kimberly’s furnishings were straight out of Ikea.  They were very sheik, very modern, very chic.  She had a cream colored curving sectional that took up most of her living area.  She had bamboo end tables and a bamboo coffee table that matched the bamboo flooring of the apartment, as well as the bamboo cabinetry in her kitchen.  Her kitchen was a study in modernity itself.  In addition to the Bamboo cabinetry, it boasted concrete counter tops, and stainless steel Viking appliances.  Her dining area was taken up by a space saving glass dining table with ultra modern birch wood chairs.  Above the concrete mantle of her fireplace, rested her pride and joy; a seventy-two inch flat panel television.  The T.V. had been a house warming gift from her mother.  Otherwise, it would have remained in the electronics store.  There was no way she would have been able to spend six grand on a television.
    Kimberly’s bedroom was decked out like that of an Egyptian princess.  She loved black and gold, and she loved ancient Egyptian artifacts and artwork.  Her bed was a platform bed that rose only inches off of the floor.  On top of that flat platform, she had her memory foam mattress, clad in gold and black silk sheets, and covered with a thick gold and black comforter with hieroglyphics and pyramid motifs on it.  The bed dressing matched her curtains, as well as her black and gold artwork.  On the wall, was her other pride and joy; a sixty-five inch flat panel television.
    Kimberly strolled across the floor of her apartment, into her kitchen, and fixed herself a nice hot cup of espresso.  The Miele espresso machine had been a gift from her aunt, and it turned out to be one of the best house warming gifts in the history of Western Civilization.  The stainless steel machine made the best espressos, lattes, and coffees in the world.  It really came in handy on cold winter mornings and back breaking days like today; days when she needed to simply lay back in her leather recliner and relax.
    Her trip to her recliner was interrupted by the telephone.
    “Hello?”  Kim said, lifting her cordless to her ear.
    “Kimberly, darling, how are you?”
    Kimberly rolled her eyes and exhaled forcibly.  “Mother, how are you?”
    “Just sitting in my sun room, worried sick about you,”  Mrs. Neel told her.
    “Why are you worried about me?”  Kim asked.  “I’m fine.”
    “How would we know?”  Mrs. Neel snapped.  “You never call, you never come by.  No e-mails, not even a lousy postcard.”
    “A postcard?  Mom, I live in Manhattan, you live in Westchester, why would I send you a postcard?”
    “You could send a telegram or a letter by pony express for all I care.   Your father and I just want to hear from you.”
    “Mother, I just saw you in church last week.”
    “But you