Sip by Sip

Chapter Ninety-Three: Clean Republican

    "Where are we going?" She asked as he pulled her along. They entered the lobby of a larger apartment building, and after a quick word to the bellman, he beckoned her to the elevator.

    "You'll see."

    The elevator ascended to the 46th floor before the doors opened for them. He stepped out, taking her hand in his once again, and left the light of the elevator behind.

    The entire 46th floor was gutted, empty, and dark. The space was unbelievably huge, and contained nothing but rubble and crumbling concrete.

    "What is this place?" She asked, running her fingers lightly across one of the walls. He smiled at her, and at her wonder.

    "My home."

    She spun around, eyes wide with alarm, and he burst out laughing.

    "I'm kidding," He assured her, and she rolled her eyes, delivering a playful shove to his shoulder. "But it used to be."

    "What do you mean by that?"

    "This was my childhood home, Gemma."

    "Oh," He watched her look at the place anew. "I can't imagine anyone living here."

    "I tore the place down after my mom died. I still own it, though."

    "You own the entire floor?" She exclaimed, poking him twice on the chest, "How can you afford this?"

    "My mom left quite the inheritance. And I have no siblings to share it with."

    "Oh. My. God. You're rich, aren't you?"

    He laughed, "No, just well off."

    "That's the polite term for being rich!" She shouted, grinning, before a thought struck her. She advanced towards him, until they were only a few inches apart. "You're not a republican are you?"

    There was a tone of warning to her voice that he found hilarious. He started laughing again, while she kept insisting, "I'm serious! If you are a republican, I can no longer see you."

    This only made him laugh harder. She huffed, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest, but couldn't help the smile tugging on her lips.

    "No," He managed to answer between rich, throaty laughs, "I am not a republican."

    "Good."

    "But even if I was-"

    "No buts! I'd be outta here and hooking up with the doorhop."

    "Oh no, not Larry!" He held his stomach, once again dying of laughter.

    "Stop laughing!" She said, but found herself giggling as well. His humor was contagious. He was kneeling on the floor now, struggling to breathe.

    "Girl, you will be the death of me."

    She dropped to her knees with him, and pressed her lips to his in an attempt to stop him from laughing. It didn't work, and he broke away, grinning.

    She held his face in her hands, and in mock seriousness declared, "If you are a dirty republican I will dump your pathetic New Yorker ass. Do you hear me, Hanson?"

    She felt his cheeks press to her fingers as he smiled. "What if I'm a clean republican?"

    She threw her hands up into the air, straining to yell above his laughter, "Ugh, you're impossible!"

    But she was laughing too.