The Living Room Read Online Free Page B

tendered over a pile of cards, far more than what would seem normal to anyone previously having had this experience. He struggled to keep his composure and tried to understand how his request had just succeeded, after years of failure. Wait until the guys in the networking group heard about this one!
    With that, Daniel thanked Mr. Stines for all his work and teased him again about his unrelenting attempts to contact him.
    “Well, if persistence pays in your business, you’ll be a wealthy man, Mr. Stines.”
    Daniel tried to sound comforting to the gentleman, who was dwarfed beside his powerful young frame. He felt sorry for him but didn’t spend any time thinking about what he could actually do to help. His mind was consumed with sorting through the events at the office, and adding an inherited house overseas now made him act out of his usual character. Concerned even more about escaping the area, he left the building and headed straight to his car. The business cards that Mr. Stine had handed over with so much hope and optimism ended up thoughtlessly delivered into the garbage bin on the street’s curb.

Chapter 3
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    Even with the balcony door cracked open slightly for a breeze, there was little street noise due to the elevation of his penthouse apartment. Daniel lay awake, again staring out the window at his office building in the distance. In the evening, the New York skyline made it easy to slip into a trancelike state and ponder the events of the day.
    The discussion with Art and comments from Nancy still played in his head. They were the closest he had to a family, and family had a way of giving advice directly, by showing concern.
    He envisioned his parents together and happy. It was a long time since he’d seen them, but their faces remained crystal clear in his mind. They were a cheerful family when he was growing up. Even as an only child, there were rarely moments when he was left alone. His mother stayed at home and took care of the house while raising him. His father was a tradesman. He built houses, or at least the foundations they settled on. Long days and sore nights from the back lifting had dominated most of his life, but he always made it home for supper. The three shared their experiences during the meal. It was the best part of the day.
    Daniel remembered their love toward each other, their talks about being a family and always being there for each other. “Till death do us part,” his parents would always say, while teasing each other during disagreements that never escalated in volume.
    Then he remembered the terrible accident and the heavily weighted truck that had demolished their more fragile car. It happened during one of the few times he was alone. At home with Art Rothschild, back then just a family friend, he waited at the window to see their car pull up from the short trip to the store. It never returned.
    In his mind, he could still faintly hear the sounds of fire trucks, audible through the large pane of glass that he stared beyond. Art was pacing the home, faster and faster, checking his watch as the time continued to pass. Daniel was sent to his room when the police cruiser arrived at the curb sometime later.
    Life changed on that day. It was never the same and never as joyous, regardless of any of the success he had achieved.
    Awake from the unpleasant memories, Daniel jumped out of bed and turned on the lights—all of them. This sometimes helped cure sudden loneliness. It worked as before but, this time, only for seconds. Positive thinking and personal state-changing techniques had helped for many years, but he was beyond the need for a band-aid. Maybe they were right. Instinctively, he knew they were, but maybe Art was more accurate about the timing. If not now, then when? And if not when, then maybe never.
    Daniel knew he needed to get away from work and learn to balance his life a little more. Having a view of the office from home, though it was a perceived bonus during the