Inferno: Part 1 Read Online Free PDF

open the door, but looks me up and down.
    “Only your first day working for me and you’re already wet?” he laughs.
    I frown, hoping to discourage him, but this seems to have the opposite effect.
    “Come up to my place and take off those wet clothes,” Bryce says.
    “Excuse me?” I make sure the expression on my face matches the amount of disgust I feel. “I’m not some skank you picked up in the bar; I just need a job. But my job is serving clients, not you.” My face is heated and I’m sure my cheeks are crimson.
    He forces the umbrella into my hand and then takes a step into the torrent of rain, holding his hands up near his shoulders and begins to back away.
    “That never even crossed my mind. I’m sorry—it came out wrong. I just meant you might want to clean up before your first night. I have extra uniforms,” he insists.
    Oh God, I just called my boss a pervert. My mind switches to damage control.
    “Come back under the umbrella—now we’re both soaked,” I manage to blurt out.
    He looks contrite, and steps back under. I motion for him to lead the way, and he takes the umbrella in one hand, loops his arm around my shoulder, and we walk into the fancy hotel just a few numbers up from the Inferno. Guess my boss is also kind of my neighbor. How I didn’t know that is beyond me.
    His towels are unlike anything I’ve experienced, even in a hotel. I don’t know how they’re so soft, and they smell like lemongrass.
    By the time I come back to the living room he has the fireplace going and has laid out dry clothes for me. He’s sitting on the couch, like a lion lying in wait, so I walk around the living room.
    Not many pictures have made the cut, so I assume they’re important. There are a few pictures at an amusement park, and although the boys are dressed the same their faces are slightly different. One is Bryce, but the other boy looks almost identical.
    “Do you have a twin?” I’m not sure the world can handle two of him.
    “You’re the first one to be even remotely close,” he nods in surprise. “Not a twin, but brother. That was our trip to Coney Island.” He gets up from the couch, coming by my side as I continue to examine the photos.
    “I’ve always wanted to go there—was it great?” I ask.
    “One of my favorite memories,” he shakes his head as if he’s reminiscing.
    Another picture is more recent, him with a distinguished older woman. Her hair is less shiny than Bryce’s, but the resemblance is clear.
    “Your mother?”
    He nods.
    “She’s so pretty. And elegant,” I say.
    “Enough about me. You’ve seen my seventh grade photos and I know almost nothing about you.”
    He gently leads me over to the couch, and we sit. For a few moments we’re silent, and I know he expects me to share my life’s story, but I’m nervous.
    “What about your family,” he asks gently. “What’s your mom like?”
    I pause, not sure how to answer at first. Something in his warm eyes makes me lower my guard.
    “She was beautiful. And kind. She would always leave notes in my lunch, just telling me I was special or how much she loved me.”
    I have to stop talking for a minute, because the memory of her still makes my throat tight. My eyes sting with tears but I hold them back. “She passed away when I was in the eleventh grade.”
    “I’m so sorry.” He reaches out for my hand and just holds it. No dramatics, no excessive questions about my feelings. Just that simple gesture. And I begin to open up.
    “Thank you. Anyway, she passed away, so it’s just my dad and me. He is such a huge part of why I’m going to Columbia—he always encouraged me and pushed me. We talk most days. And he calls me his little acorn.”
    I blush, but Bryce beams.
    “I can see it. You’re so tiny, and with your gorgeous brown hair.”
    I roll my eyes, and decide it’s his turn to spill the beans.
    “What about you?” I ask.
    He pauses, and I can see him formulating the words in his mind.
    “My