DESMOND'S APARTMENT
POV DESMOND
I stood on my balcony, shivering but enjoying the sunset as it cast its last rays across the city. Nathaniel had only told me to dress warmly for tonight, leaving no indication as to where we were going on Staten Island. I pulled out my phone, checking the time for the millionth time.
I almost dropped it over the edge when I saw a hand gripping the rail. "Jesus Christ, Nathaniel," I said, putting a hand on my chest. He was laughing as he pulled himself gracefully over the edge.
"I didn't want your doorman to see me come through the entrance. Can't have him reporting back to uncle the company you keep," he replied. He was wearing another black T-shirt and blue jeans, although the shirt looked like it was painted on. His hair was tied up in a high knot, but some strands had come loose. I assumed from his high-rise adventure.