“Aaron’s mouth dropped open when he entered the “room;” it was more like a huge open loft … no walls, huge floor to ceiling windows, shiny hardwood floors … perfect for a studio. He had no idea how Jake had acquired such a huge space in Manhattan.
As if reading his mind, Alyson leaned over and whispered, “He bought the place next door and tore down the walls.”
“Perfect,” replied Aaron, “and did he happen to find a treasure chest hidden in one of the walls as well?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, how the holy hell does he afford this place? He looks like he’s twelve.”
“He’s twenty-two, and he happens to be quite successful.”
“At twenty-fucking-two?”
“He was born with talent?” Alyson said questioningly.
“He’s a lucky wanker who blew the right people?” suggested Aaron.
Alyson tried to scowl but grinned instead, “A child prodigy?”
“A deal with the devil?”
“Naturally gifted?”
“An indulgent sugar daddy?”
“How about ‘c) All of the above’?” asked a third voice from behind the partition at the far corner of the studio.”
―
Giselle Ellis,
Take My Picture
