The Arrogant Architect Read Online Free PDF Page A

why
he’s being so persistent. Then, I think about him pulling up on the street
tonight. Was he just in the area? Was it really a coincidence? And he looked so
hurt when I brushed him off.
    Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter. I don’t even know who he
is, not that I really care – he’s not my type. Changing into my pajamas, I get
an idea to try and find out more about him.
    Just so I know what I am up against.
    Plus, his name is unusual and the public records should show
his last name, if he really is the owner of the building next door.
    So I grab my laptop to see what I can find, and it’s not
hard to locate the real estate transaction. It shows the buyer as King
Architecture, the signer for the company is Kingsley Lennox. Hmmm. So his name
is Kingsley, King for short? Like I go by Ever, short for Everly. Maybe we have
one thing in common. Closing my laptop, my eyes feel heavy. But the realization
that I have his name sparks me to look a bit further.
    Doing a simple Google search on his name, I am floored by
the results. There area zillion articles about him and tons of images of his
work. He even has a freaking Wikipedia page. This guy is a mogul in the
architectural world. I click on a link and there’s his picture in front of a
huge, no…gigantic building, and reading the first few lines of the biography, I
kind of have a little respect for him. Kingsley Lennox, better known as
King, is the youngest architect to ever emerge into the spotlight with such a
vision of creativity and passion, like none other of his caliber. Anything King
touches turns to gold. He’s been dubbed a modern day genius by The New
Yorker . A native of San Antonio, Texas where his parents both still reside,
he’s most famously known for his work on the Marble Lux, the Glass Community,
and restoring more pieces of United States history with his own money and time
than anyone ever has.
    Scrolling further down, his work is gorgeous. Mind-blowing.
But I can’t help but be affected by memories of his arrogant nature. Almost
rude behavior from what I’ve seen, and that is not something that I find
attractive. I mean, I was wrong giving him the pepper, but he pushed me to that
point and never has apologized. Not for anything, the noise…nothing.
    Closing my laptop, I am now well aware of who this guy is.
He is, just as he presents himself, a beautiful blend of extravagant oils. And
me…I’m water. So no matter what thoughts might be conjuring up in the back of
my head, oil and water will never mix. And I don’t think I want them to.
He’s not the kind of person I can see myself with. We can’t even be around one
another– all we do is fight and it goes sideways when we see each other.
    But I’ve made it this far in life without a man, and I will
continue on, trusting in the bigger plan of the universe, the way my parents
raised me.

Chapter 6
     
    As I prepare to leave for work dreading the annoyance that
will be waiting for me, I keep focused and remind myself to put one foot in
front of the other, striving forward. But that’s hard, because sure enough, the
pink bike is still parked outside of my apartment.
    Ignoring it, I emerge into the warm summer day, the noise
next door is so loud, but at least it’s coming from inside the building, if I
am looking at any positives in this situation. Keeping my eyes down, I go for
my bike. And when it is not at the bike rack, it infuriates me.
    That sonofabitch.
    My teeth are gritted together as I try and decide what to
do. What I wanna do is find him and fucking slap him. But I saw how well
poisoning him with a pepper went, so assault will surely not bother him.
Turning to walk in, I run smack dab into him.
    “Ooompph,” I yelp from the impact. My hands touch him, he
smells like a fucking drug, and as dazed as I am being this close to him, I force
myself to quickly back away. “Did you steal my bike?” I accuse him, noticing he
has another stupid ass ten thousand-dollar bike with