1
A Ticket to Her Heart
To inherit a Multi-million dollar penthouse, or to win a lottery didn’t happen often, but one thing Ivy was grateful for, was finally, having an apartment on her own. She loved her roommate, Emma and they had been best friends since college, but Ivy had to move out to start a new life since their old apartment had many unforgettable memories, and a few of those were painful ones.
She let her striking blue eyes scanned around the living room—it was nothing fancy, but it was homey enough for her. The simple sofa and the monochrome glass coffee table she bought from the Thrift store gave enough space to her tiny living room, and she got a chance to place the bookshelves beside the wall—where she could easily access when she wanted to binge read her book collection series.
After throwing all the dirty clothes to the hamper, Ivy pulled her sticky and dirty shirt off once she got into the bathroom. Before she could push down her shorts, a dark gray suit jacket hanging on the door caught her attention. By the look of it, it looked tailored and definitely expensive.
Curiosity struck her. She took it from the rack and felt the cloth against her thumb—it was smooth, and the strong smell of manly scent assaulted her nose.
“How the hell did someone leave it here?” She checked the pocket and didn’t actually know why she did that because if this thing had value to the owner, he wouldn’t leave it in the bathroom.
She stilled when she fished out something. When she checked it out, her brows squished together.
“Tickets?” A smile smiled curved up her cupid’s bow lips. “Oh, my god! This can’t be!” Her eyes widened. Seriously, why in the hell someone would leave these two tickets to a movie in here? She thought. And it would expire in a few days.
Emma would definitely love to go with her since they both had not gone on dates lately, but something twisted in the pit of her belly. She went with her gut to call the landlord and ask who was the previous tenant of this apartment—her holier-than-thou halo literally appeared on top of her head.
After she showered and changed into her PJs, she called the landlord, but it only rang until she decided to eat her dinner consisted of pepperoni pizza and cheap red wine.
“Mr. Flynn, good morning!” Ivy greeted the old doorman in the lobby after her short run around the neighborhood. She was always an early riser since she was a kid. Thanks to her war veteran old man.
“A beautiful young lady in the beautiful morning.” The old man in his late sixties smiled at her.
“Can I ask you something?” She walked closer to Mr. Flynn.
“Of course, Ms. Clark.”
“Please, just call me Ivy. You made me like fifty years old,” she joked.
“Then you should call me Oswald like everyone else.”
She smiled politely. “Fine. Oswald then. Do you happen to know the previous tenant of my apartment?” Ivy laughed softly. “Of course, you know. Who is he?”
“What made you think it was a man, Ivy?” There was a hint of mischief in his voice that made Ivy’s eyes glittered in amusement.
“I just want to return something to him.”
The old man walked toward the small reception and leaned against the counter. “He doesn’t need anything to be returned, Ivy.” Suddenly, sadness crossed Oswald’s face.
“Is he okay?” she asked, concern rolled through her.
There was no way something bad happened to the previous tenant or was it why the jacket left in there? An apprehension chill ran down Ivy’s spine.
Oswald saw the horror look on her face. He shook his head. “He’s fine. He’s just a few blocks away from here. What does that young man left in your apartment?”
“His jacket and movie tickets.”
Oswald huffed. “He can buy the whole tickets, my dear. He didn’t probably remember buying those.”
“So, he’s rich, huh?” Then why was he renting in an apartment hers if he could afford a penthouse?
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to knock on his door, young lady. Just forget about it. You can bring your friend and watch that movie instead.”
The words of Oswald left her puzzled. Before she decided to walk to the elevator, she asked one more time, “Where’s his apartment? And what’s his name?”
The old man sighed in defeat. “Oh, boy. You’re really a journalist, Ivy. Hunt Building, apartment 5C. And his name is Jaks. Tell the doorman that you already talked to me because there was no way he would let you in.”
“Wait a sec. He transferred to another Hunt building. Why?” Ivy knew that Hunt was famous and had buildings she could count on her fingers and toes, and literally owned pretty everything in this city.
“Ask him when you meet him. And he might be sober to answer your question.”
She almost cringed at the thought of talking to a drunk Jaks, but she just wanted to return the jacket. And if he refused to take it, then she could call Emma and enjoy the movie together. As much as she loved to watch an animated movie, but not this time, because she spent most of her saving filling her apartment.
