Boarding the Novel: Chapter One Location in Mid-Town Manhattan near 23rd and Park Avenue

Location: mid-town Manhattan

I chose mid-town Manhattan to open the novel Boarding because of research showing the types of offices in the area. 

I figured it would be a central location to have Jessie the fashion designer meet with Torrey Johnson, a man always seeking an opportunity to push forward the careers of his model clients.

The specific area is 23^rd Street and Park Avenue.

What We Learn – Torrey decorates his office in a country theme.

This image is an apartment building shot from a real estate company.

Boarding is available from Amazon and Breathless Press the publisher.

Here is a novel excerpt from Chapter One:

After forty-five minutes in his office he had maintained a visage

that had less expression than a seasoned poker player. He

scanned her portfolio steadily, like a detective searching a crime

scene, yet there were no outward signs of concentration like a

wrinkled forehead, furrowed brow, or lips pressed tightly together.

A painting of a farmhouse surrounded by blueberry bushes

hung behind him and offered Jessie an imaginative escape while

she sat rigid like a statue. The scene, though, was now beginning

to grate on her nerves.

The entire office was decorated with props for a farmhouse

theme, including a rustic milk can off to one corner and a stepladder

that supported rows of tiny potted herbs on the rungs.

A wide-brimmed straw hat and red bandana rested on a hook

on the door. A rustic escape was created within the confines of a

Manhattan skyscraper.

Every detail in the damned office was now engrained in Jessie’s

memory bank. Crown molding ran above the bookcases, the

thirty-fourth floor windows were floor to ceiling, and the leather

sofa, which had intricate patterns, looked like it could have been

lifted from the home of a European monarch.

Few visitors ever have a chance to study the crown molding.

Jessie brushed back a curl of her red hair, wet from the rain that

soaked her after the taxi mistakenly dropped her off one block

away from Twenty-Third Street and Park Avenue. A droplet from

the tip of a curl landed on her neck and trickled down her shoulder

blade like an ant with tiny feet tickling her flesh.

She leaned back against the chair and wiggled, but the droplet

had already zigzagged to the waistband of her panties and to

the valley of her ass. Wiping it away at this point would have been

awkward and impolite, so she concentrated on him studying her

sketches, fighting to keep her eyes open and ignoring the pounding

sensation in her temples. At least he could offer her a bottle of

water. He had to water the herbs with something.

He lifted his shoulders, glanced out the window, and ran a

finger along his chin. She brightened and waited. He lowered his

head.

Good Lord, don’t tell me this is round two.

The weariness from the British Airways flight that she boarded

after her design competition in London had her tight in its grip.

The craft had dipped and rolled through a storm over the Atlantic

like a gravity-defying roller coaster at Six Flags and she had deplaned

at JFK Airport only four hours earlier with legs weak like

boiled spaghetti.

All she wanted was for him to say yes or no—to accept or

reject her fashion concepts. Jessie fantasized about gripping his

collar and running her nose against his tan face and chiseled jaw.

She would whisper how much she admired his wide shoulders

and sturdy neck and if he would say something, then he could do

anything to her he damn well pleased.