Central Park West

By Arden Masters

Devin McClain, at age thirty-four, was the CEO of a sprawling, family real estate empire. Even so, he was restless and unfulfilled. Looking for a change in his life, he decides to move out of the family building and buy an apartment. This turns out to be a fateful decision. At an open house he meets Sophie Nazario, a stunningly attractive Latina. They are powerfully drawn to one another. Just as their relationship begins to blossom, a woman from Sophie’s past appears. Taylor Ford is a tall, blonde beauty and a world-class swimmer. Devin soon learns not only is the woman Sophie’s ex-lover, but she wants Sophie back.
What begins as a rivalry turns into something very different when Sophie decides she wants them both in her life. The three lovers forge a strong, but taboo, relationship. When they are no longer able, or willing, to hide how they feel about each other, disaster follows. Somehow, they must find a way through the tumult and live life on their own terms.
This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts and is not suitable for minors.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Arden Masters
• Release date: Feb 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463326466

Arden Masters

Writing fiction is a long-time interest and passion of mine. My stories are sexy, fun, and often snarky. I hope you find these tales interesting, readable, and well crafted. Comments and reviews are welcome. Enjoy!

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Central Park West

Copyright 2020 by Arden Masters

Published by Arden Masters at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

Thank you for downloading this e-book. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

Author’s Notes

This is a work of fiction and intended for reader’s enjoyment. Names, characters, places, and situations are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, or organizations is entirely coincidental. All characters depicted are at least eighteen years of age. This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts and is not suitable for minors.

Central Park West

Money doesn’t make you happy; it’s a maxim, an assertion, and famously subject to doubt and debate. Those without money are often, and understandably, the doubters, while those of means might attest to the opposite. The truth, if that’s what it can be called, may lie somewhere in-between. Devin McClain clearly fits into the group with significant means and, indeed, he is not happy. Being the CEO of a major real estate development company at the age of thirty-four would seem to be a dream job for most people, but he knows being the son of the chairman of the board opens such doors. Not to say he isn’t driven, highly competent, and motivated, but he knows no one off the street would be where he is in his or her early thirties. That is not the stuff of happiness, at least not for him.

The money gives him the ability to do whatever he wants except escape the life he was born into. His brother, Collin, is CFO, joining him in the family business that consumes their lives. His sister, Alicia, somehow managed to escape the golden handcuffs, finding her niche as a violinist with the New York Philharmonic. He’s a bit jealous of her.

Sitting at his desk in the corner office on the fortieth floor of the family’s office building, he stares blankly at his computer monitor and ponders his fate; it’s a slow morning at the office, a rarity. He’s not used to this type of introspection, at least not during the day. And then Paul McClain comes striding into Devin’s office as if he owned the place. He does. Hi dad. What can I do for you? was Devin’s even greeting.

Paul McClain is a man in his latter fifties with salt and pepper hair and a persona that exudes an aura of power that comes from owning a real estate empire. He gave his son the crooked smile Devin was only too familiar with. Hello, Devin. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.

Devin knew his father wouldn’t care what he interrupted. In fact, the man didn’t care about much of anything that didn’t concern himself.

After his father left Devin leaned back in his chair and pondered the moment. His father was a dick and it was getting old. Life seemed hollow somehow, including his love life. He had no regrets about his recent break-up with his girlfriend, Britani. The debutante was a vapid, boring bitch, and he was better off without her. She wasn’t even that great in bed even though, as he had to admit, she was seriously hot. Devin realized he’d reached a tipping point. It was something he knew was coming, but he had no idea where it would take him. He pressed the intercom button. Lilah, please come in.

His assistant answered promptly. Yes, Mr. McClain. I’ll be right there. Lilah Hudson had been at his side since the beginning of his career. As he rose through the ranks, so did she. A few years older that Devin, she was the epitome of a girl Friday, though if you were ever to call her that, she would rip you a new one. Devin knew she had been a big part of his rise to CEO and he appreciated her.

The tall black woman with immaculate cornrows opened the door to his office and closed it quietly behind her. What, Devin? A new project? A merger? What? Once they were alone, it wasn’t Mr. McClain, it was Devin, and that’s the way he liked it.

He gave her a cryptic smile. No, Lilah, something much more interesting.

She arched an eyebrow. And that would be? I shudder to ask.

Devin took a moment to fiddle with his cufflinks. It was something he often did before saying something impactful, whether it was in negotiations or in his personal life. I’m moving out of the building. I’d like you to arrange some viewings of suitable properties.

Which of our properties are on the list?

None. I’d like something on Central Park. He nodded absentmindedly. Yes, Central Park sounds good.

She just stared at him for a moment. "Seriously?

He glared back at her. Yes, did I stutter?

She started laughing, then donned a look of sarcastic surprise. Moving out of the family building? And what will mummy and daddy have to say about this?

Don’t be such a bitch, Lilah. Oh, and I don’t give a fuck.

She wasn’t chastened at all. They had an easy and familiar way between them. Well, then good for you, Devin. Sounds great.

He gave her a level gaze. She was exactly right. I guess I’ve been too wrapped up getting here to wonder why I was doing it.

Price range?

Ten to fifteen million. Two or three bedrooms.

Lilah nodded her head and made some notes on her tablet. You got it, boss.

By noon the next day Lilah had four viewings set up. One was at 5 Central Park West; Trump Tower. The second one was 812 Fifth Avenue. There was another on Central Park North as well as a listing at the historic El Dorado, located at 300 Central Park West.

When she handed Devin the list, he studied it for a few moments. Thanks, Lilah. These all look interesting. She gave him a slight nod, acknowledging his response. You can scratch the Trump Tower appointment, he said with a grimace. I just can’t go there.

She chuckled. I figured, but I wanted to see the look on your face and it does have a great view.

Yeah, hope you enjoyed that, replied Devin, shaking his head.

The first appointment was at the Fifth Avenue property. The apartment was on one of the top floors. It was a downgrade from his current apartment, but Devin knew that would be the case. He liked it, but it didn’t really speak to what he was looking for. What was he really looking for? He knew it was more than just an apartment.

She’d done it, finally done it; a broker’s license in the city that never sleeps, but spends a shitload of money on crazy, luxurious real estate. Sophia could barely believe it. Growing up, she’d watched those New York real estate shows with guys selling millions of dollars of properties and raking in huge commissions…and now it was her turn. She was going to be one of them, but she fully realized it wasn’t going to be easy. She was a woman wary of rich, arrogant men who believed their money entitled them to more than just buying a property. Fuck them. Actually, don’t fuck them.

Sophia had always struggled with unwanted advances from men…all types of men. Once she’d reached puberty her womanly assets asserted themselves. Her large breasts, thin waist, and curving hips were a magnet for men…mostly the wrong kind. Not to say she didn’t have a highly developed libido; she did, very much so. Her desire for both men and women was strong. At twenty-seven, she was old enough and experienced enough to enjoy her body and the pleasure she shared with her partners, so why not? She just didn’t want it to be something that defined her career.

The showing at the El Dorado was her first as a licensed broker, though she’d hosted many an open house and done endless showings as an assistant. She’d dressed to the nines for the occasion; a slinky short dress with serious cleavage, and power red, of course. Her long brunette tresses were done up in a bun. She finished the look with an amazing pair of fuck-me heels and just the right amount of make-up. It was times like these when she’d take a moment to reflect. She was using every bit of her sexuality to sell real estate, but was appalled when the client hit on her. Hypocrisy sucks, but hey, it can definitely pay.

The day of the open house Sophia arrived two hours early. As expected, her assistant was already there. Rosa, an energetic Latina only a year younger than her, was trying to follow the same path as Sophia. She efficiently directed the various food, liquor, flower, and other vendors setting up for the event. Sophia had spent many hours and a lot of money staging the space, flooding social media with event information, and doing all the other things she believed would move the listing.

The space was unique; the central tower of the venerable El Dorado, an art deco icon. The south tower was actually a water tower while the north tower was an amazing penthouse. The central tower had two stories, each with a deck, as well as three bedrooms and every luxury one could imagine. Even though the El Dorado was an older building and only thirty stories tall, it was located on Central Park West, one of the most desirable addresses in the city. Sophie felt confident she was going to sell it today. It was a down cycle in the market, but she was determined to be optimistic.

Unfortunately, it was drizzling as the open house was about to start. In her mind Sophia had envisioned a beautiful, clear day, with prospective buyers stepping out on to the deck to be blown away by the breathtaking views of the park and the New York skyline. Now she was going to have to coax them to imagine sitting out there with a drink on a sunny day or cool night watching the lights of the city. So much for positive thinking about the weather.

Even though the weather had turned sour, Devin still decided to hit the open house at the El Dorado; his limo dropped him off at the entrance. He quickly strode through the entrance to the bank of elevators. This was his first time in the building. He smiled when he saw the ornate brass elevator doors. This was more like it, he thought to himself. On the twenty-seventh floor he got out and saw there were private elevators for the two habitable towers. The one for the central tower had a sign and a greeter stationed in front of it. She was a beautiful young woman with long blond hair…probably a model or some ingenue looking for her big break on Broadway.

She gave him her practiced smile. Good afternoon, sir. Are you here for the open house?

He gave her his own practiced smile. Indeed, I am. And what would your name be?

She blushed a little. Tiffany, she replied with a giggle.

Of course, it was. He took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. How lovely you are.

She pressed the button for the private elevator. Why thank you. I hope you like what you see… the, the property, that is, she stuttered.

Devin gave her his devilish smile. I’m sure I will, Tiffany, he replied, and entered the elevator. She tittered a bit. On the way up he paid little mind to the woman. He’d seen and been with so many just like her; young, attractive, and uninspiring. He was so over that, but then it wasn’t their fault…it was his.

When the elevator doors opened, he was greeted by a sumptuous, modern décor, with art deco accents; he was struck by it. This was nothing like the antiseptic environments one found in new construction. He loved it. There were a few other buyers and brokers in the space, but it was far from crowded.

And then he saw her. She was talking to an Asian couple.