There was a spiral staircase on one side of the living room that led up to the two bedrooms. The master had a walk-out balcony, and Kat rather proudly showed off her “view,” meaning that if you stepped all the way to the far left hand side of the balcony and jumped, you could actually see a little bit of the ocean. Probably. But mostly the view was obscured by a giant hotel. And beach. A shiny patch of sand glittered between the buildings, surrounded by scrubby palm bushes.
“This is nice,” he said honestly, and tried not to think about the apartment in New York. It had been smaller than this, because of the New York cost of living, and they’d decorated very differently, but there was a similar sense of pride and—