Built to Last (Park Avenue Promise #3) Read Online Lexi Blake

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Park Avenue Promise Series by Lexi Blake
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
<<<<1231121>103
Advertisement2

From New York Times bestselling author Lexi Blake, discover The Park Avenue Promise Series...

Three young women make a pact in high school—
to always be friends and to one day make it big in Manhattan

Built to Last

Harper Ross has always dreamed of working on one of the magnificent brownstones of Park Avenue. Now one of her closest friends has bought the house of her dreams and hired Harper to do the construction work. She wants to showcase the renovation on a television show for her brand-new production company. It’s the same grand home she and her friends promised themselves they would be able to afford one day. Working on it isn’t the same as living in it, but it’s all a part of Harper’s grand plan to grow her father’s construction business into one of the biggest in the city. The only obstacle—the designer on the project.

Reid Dorsey believes in the balance between beauty and functionality. As one of Manhattan’s new voices in design, he’s excited to get to work on a true Gilded Age property. If only the owner had selected a contractor he enjoyed working with. Oh, Harper was brilliant and her work was excellent, but she has an opinion on everything—and it’s usually the opposite of his.

Over the course of the job, these enemies start to see different sides of each other, and suddenly their fights don’t seem so bad. But when the project is threatened, they might have to choose between their jobs and the beautifully designed future they could share.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

I stand in the middle of what was once a grand ballroom and think about all the work ahead of me. Soft light filters in from the big windows that overlook the garden, and I can’t help but wonder what it must have been like to stand on the balcony and watch the stars and the moon.

Not that you can do that today, but I don’t think pollution was quite as bad during the Gilded Age when this mansion was built. I could be wrong about that. History isn’t my best subject.

But architecture is.

Banover Place. Once this magnificent mansion was owned by a railroad tycoon, and the family also ran bootleg booze during prohibition as evidenced by the tunnels below the house that lead to a hotel two blocks away. So much history in one home.

I can’t wait to get to work. This is the job I’ve been waiting my whole life to do.

“What do you think?” Anika asks. Anika Fox. One of my two best friends since we were kids. Anika, who will soon be known as Her Majesty, Queen Anika of Ralavia. Long live the queen and all that.

She’s not wearing her crown today, but there’s no doubt my bestie rules her world with a kind smile and a lot of love. She’s a very modern monarch, and she’s the reason I’m standing in this mansion.

“I think it’s going to be beautiful when I’m done with it,” I reply with confidence.

I’ve gotten to know this house. While Anika was a contestant on a reality dating show that took place inside the mansion, I was brought in to ensure production didn’t ruin the aesthetics of the place. Or destroy a hundred years’ worth of history because they needed better lighting. I’ve worked here for months, but what Anika is now offering is far more than some handywork.

A complete renovation. I’m going to get to completely renovate this glorious monstrosity of a house. The thought of spending hours and hours bringing this place back to its former beauty excites me in a way I can’t explain. I’ve worked in construction all of my life, but this is different. This isn’t building something new, some nondescript office structure in Brooklyn or a high-rise condo. This is delicate. This feels like art to me.

“And you’re sure it’s not going to hurt the business?” My other best friend, Ivy Jensen, walks back in from the hall.

She’s got reason to be worried. She helped me pull my father’s construction business out of possible bankruptcy. Ivy is a tech goddess who’s working on perfecting the AI software she developed with her fiancé, Heath. Beyond that, she simply knows how to run a business. She quickly identified the problems and restructured how the company handles our finances and voila, we’re thriving again. She also found me a tax attorney who managed to get our ass out of the fire because Dad and my uncle had never seen the benefit of paying their taxes. So I understand why Ivy wants to make sure the company I inherited from my father is steady. “I can handle both jobs. It’s not like I’m on-site much these days. I can take meetings with clients in the mornings and get here to set before lunch. Paul’s going to handle the day-to-day operations while I’m working here. It’s an eight-week gig.”

“We hope,” Ivy points out. She gestures around the grand ballroom. “You never know with these things. I’ve been watching a lot of real estate and renovation shows, and something always goes wrong. Always. Have we checked the water heater? Does anyone know the difference between black mold and regular, won’t-kill-you mold?”

“Well, for one thing, it’s black in color.” It’s fun to have Ivy freaking about things in my world. It’s a little payback because I freak out about computer stuff, and I swear the damn things hate me and love her. I lose a spreadsheet and call Ivy because I won’t be able to make payroll, and she swoops in and it comes back with the stroke of a key. So I’ll tease her a bit about this. “The only mold I’ve seen is in the bathroom down the hall,” I say, knowing she recently used that sucker. There is no mold in Banover Place. “As long as you don’t breathe in there, you’ll be fine.”

Ivy pales a bit. “I want a hazmat suit.”

“There’s no black mold,” Anika assures her. “We’ve already done an inspection. We had to in order to get the insurance.” Anika frowns my way. “You know she gets nervous about mold.”

I’m not sure why since Ivy Jensen fears nothing. I mean nothing. She should totally be more worried about her sketchy dining choices. I’ve watched her down tacos from some dude selling them out of a cooler off 44th Street right before the cops chased him away.


Advertisement3

<<<<1231121>103

Advertisement4