The Beginning of Always Read Free Page A

little table that appeared to have spent considerable time outdoors and the entryway opened up to an open living room, with a kitchen area outfitted with a dark granite peninsula that provided bar seating. To the left, there was a hallway that led to the bedrooms.
    I noticed was that the place was insanely orderly and neat. But I knew better. It was unlived-in more so than kept-up. Nicolas worked long hours and only came home to sleep.
    The entryway table was covered with frames. Nicolas was a bit of a picture hoarder. Ever since he was a kid, he’d loved collecting them. If he had been a serial killer, his trophies would have been photographs. He was fascinated with the instant quality of Polaroid cameras, but more so, Nicolas just adored amassing photos of every occasion and putting them up for display. Our attic back home was crammed with box after box of his collection, and when he’d moved to New York, he’d brought along his favorites. Those photos now took up an entire wall of his apartment, with more frames scattered about the mantel, side tables, bar area—basically anything with a flat surface. It was a wonder he had space to put anything else down.
    “Okay, this place is really nice.” I walked towards the hallway, opening doors and cabinets, peeking around corners.
    Nicolas called out after me, “Yeah, please, make yourself at home! No need to ask. Of course you can open everything, look around. Make sure to rifle through my broom closet, can’t miss that on your tour.”
    I yelled back at him, “You don’t have a broom closet. You probably don’t even own a broom.”
    “Why don’t you check for me?” came his response.
    The apartment was huge. Two bedrooms, two baths with a living room and kitchen, it had to be at least two thousand square feet. The furniture was sparse, as if Nicolas had run out of money to furnish the place, but just like the building, the apartment was relatively new and immensely upgraded. Like I’d told Nicolas, it was nice. I entered the spacious master bedroom and immediately narrowed my eyes in suspicion. Too nice.
    When I returned to the main living area, Nicolas was putting away his groceries. I took a quick inventory of what he had bought—toaster pastries, honey-roasted peanuts, assorted granola bars, and a ten-pound can of coffee. When he opened the cabinets to stow the items away, I could see all the way to the back of the cabinets. All of them were pretty much empty, devoid of anything, even tableware.
    “Do you know your master en suite bathroom has a Jacuzzi?”
    Nicolas didn’t turn when he answered, “I’ve been living here for the past four months, so I probably noticed.”
    “How are you affording this place?” Recent medical school graduates made squat during their first year of residency. His salary was barely enough to afford those off-brand toaster pastries, much less New York City rent.
    Nicolas shrugged, all ease. “I know the developer. I stayed in one of the smaller units for med school, but I decided to upgrade to a bigger place once my residency started since I needed an office. The guy gave me a good deal.”
    “ A good deal? ” Every alarm in my brain was pinging furiously. “Where are we, still in St. Haven? Landlords don’t give tenants good deals on this side of the world,” I said. Nicolas didn’t answer me and my temper spiked.
    “What are you paying?” I prodded.
    “Why do you care? Mind your own business.”
    I sighed, exasperated. It was like we were kids again and I was trying to force him to admit he’d eaten all the Oreos. “I’m your older sister, so your business is mine. Now spit it out, what’s the price?”
    “Hey, I take umbrage at that. Your business is your business and mine is mine.”
    I was growing more suspicious by the second. “Can your fancy words! This smells wrong. What are you paying?”
    Nicolas shoved the last toaster pastry box into the cupboard and slammed the door, then glanced over his