Chapter 2
Sunday dawned bright and sunny. After a breakfast of juice and toast, Byron decided to check out the park up close and personal. The elevator made it down one floor and stopped. A good-looking woman, probably in her early forties, got on.
“You’re new, aren’t you?” she asked after pushing to button for the ground floor.
“I could say I was just visiting someone,” he replied with a smile. “But I wasn’t. I own 1001, or I guess the bank does until I’ve finished paying the mortgage.”
“Tell me about it,” she said. “I’ll be almost seventy before I really own my place.”
“A very lovely seventy, I’m sure.”
She preened, thanking him for the compliment, and introduced herself as Margie Winters. By then the elevator reached the fourth floor and another woman got on.
After greeting Margi
