by Karina Halle
And I hate that I find it kind of exciting as well.
I stare at my phone on the coffee table. I could call Steph and get her opinion, but in the end, it’s not going to change anything. I know already what has to be done.
I fish out the card, pick up my phone and dial.
“Hello, Bram?”
***
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Steph says to me as she walks into my near empty apartment and hands me a giant cup of coffee she just picked up from Bluebottle. I slurp it back, even though it burns my lips and throat as we survey the place.
It’s Saturday morning and just over a week after I told Bram I accepted his offer to move into his apartment complex. My landlord was angry at my short notice but he was angry to begin with, so that didn’t make much difference. With Steph, Kayla, and sometimes Linden, we were able to pack up my apartment really fast. Even though it’s a small place, I was surprised how much junk I’d collected over the years. I think there’s a sentimental hoarder somewhere inside me but it was very freeing to give a lot of it away. Clean slate.
Ava is off with my mom in Livermore for the day, which is wonderful, although I’m extremely nervous about her giving the insulin shots correctly. I know I shouldn’t doubt my mom – I showed her how and she has a neighbor with diabetes just in case she needs help but I think my worry meter has been pushed to eleven for the rest of my life.
Steph, Kayla, Linden and Bram are all helping me this moving day. Bram said he would gladly pay for the cost of a moving company, but I don’t want any more of his charity, and to be honest, I wanted to see him sweat a little. We’ve been up since 6am and working like maniacs to get everything packed up. With a few final boxes we were back in the apartment, probably – hopefully – for the last time.
I mull over what Steph just said. “In a good way or a bad way?”
“In a good way,” she says, drinking her own coffee for a second, her bright magenta lipstick leaving clean marks on the lid. “I mean, this is amazing. I just hope Bram stays true to his word.”
“Well, I’m a charity case, remember?”
“I gotta say that surprises me too. Because I never knew he was big on charity, even when tax breaks were involved.” She smiles at me. “But you know what, charity or tax breaks or whatever, this is awesome for you.”
“Almost done?” Kayla asks, appearing at the doorway. Her pale skin is flushed with sweat, her long black hair pulled back into a ponytail underneath a pink baseball cap. She’s not wearing any makeup and as usual she looks fantastic. Her Japanese mother passed onto her perpetually flawless skin.
“Almost,” I tell her. “There’s a box for you.” I nod at a huge one in the corner.
“Oh, great,” she says sarcastically and goes over, bending down to lift it. “Don’t tell me all your hardcover books are in here.”
“Pillows and cushions,” I tell her just as she lifts it up with ease.
She comes over with it and looks around at the empty walls. It doesn’t even look like I lived here at all. “Wow. I know you made this place real cute, Nicola, but I think we all need to have some champagne tonight to celebrate the fact that I don’t have to come back to this damn neighborhood and get asked by Hustlin’ Joe outside for change and a BJ every time I visit.”
“Hustlin’ Joe?” I repeat.
She shrugs. “His words, not mine. Okay, ladies, are you done taking in the water-stained ceiling and the peeling linoleum? Because the men want to get this show on the road. Remember unpacking is just as bad as packing.”
I take in a deep breath. I’m ready.
We go outside and I see my landlord – soon to be ex – Mr. Stanley, standing by the building with his short arms crossed over his portly stomach, smoking a cigarette and glaring at the moving van. That was one thing I let Bram hire for the day.
“Mr. Stanley,” I say to him, coming over, cradling my box that I’ve labeled “Kitchen Crap.” In a second, Linden comes and wordlessly takes the box out of my hands and puts it in the van.
“Don’t expect to get a good reference from me,” Mr. Stanley says to me, cigarette puffing out the sides of his fat mouth. He frowns so much he looks like he has a unibrow.
“Well, that’s not exactly fair,” I tell him calmly, though what I really want to do is give him a piece of my mind. “I would have given you a month’s notice but it just didn’t end up that way. Wouldn’t you have rather this than me not paying rent and having to evict me?”
“But I enjoy evicting people,” he says with smile. “And this way, you don’t get your security deposit back.”
Shit. Shit. Shit! I completely forgot about that deposit. $500 is a hell of a lot of money for me right now.
“Is there a problem here?”
Suddenly Bram is at my side and he’s putting one hand on my shoulder. It’s warm and steady in the cool, grey morning. It feels good. That’s probably why I want to shrug it off.
But I don’t dare in front of Mr. Stanley. Besides, Bram is putting up a pretty intimidating front. For once he’s not in a suit, but dark jeans and a white t-shirt that fits every contour of his body and shows off his muscles. I’d been trying not to notice during the move – not the tan of his skin or the way his arms flex when he lifts something or the damp spot of sweat on his back. But now I’m grateful that his bulk is on display because I don’t for a second want Mr. Stanley to think he can get away with being an asshole.
“No problem,” Mr. Stanley says through a sneer. He rips his cigarette out from his mouth and glares up at Bram who towers over him and pretty much everyone else. “Just informing the girl here on how to be a good tenant. You leave like a good tenant. She hasn’t.”
“The girl,” Bram drawls out in his brogue, “is leaving because she and her daughter don’t want to live in a rat-infested hell-hole. You don’t think I haven’t been inside your building and seen how many building code violations you’re breaking, let alone any of the ones that would get you fired from being a building manager?”
Mr. Stanley’s face falters for a moment. I don’t think I’ve ever seen his eyebrows come apart.
“I’ve also been moving shit out of her apartment all day,” Bram goes on and takes out his phone, waving it at him. “I have pictures of the damaged between-floor barriers designed to prevent the spread of fire, a broken dry sprinkler system, a fire alarm system control panel flashing ‘trouble’ and an out-of-date fire safety plan, as well as rat droppings in the hallways, an elevator that doesn’t work, forcing all people, even the elderly, to take the stairs, and carpenter ant damage in the lobby. I’m going to assume its spread throughout the rest of the building.”
My mouth drops open. Bram noticed all that?
Mr. Stanley is pale. The cigarette is shaking in his hand.
“One call to the fire department and you’ll be fined at least $20,000,” Bram tells him, head high. “You’ll probably lose your job too. Or you could give the girl her security deposit back and we’ll be on our way.”
“Wow,” I hear Kayla say from behind me. “Bram’s the man.”
Bram looks at me briefly and winks. “There’s another motto for ya.” Then he fixes a steady gaze back on Mr. Stanley. “So, what’s it going to be?”
Mr. Stanley doesn’t have to think twice. He rips out his check book from his back pocket and writes me a check for $500. He hands it to me, unable to look me in the eye now then quickly heads back to the building.
“And no worries about being her reference,” Bram calls after him. “She’s got me for that.”
He nudges me in the side with his elbow. “Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here.”
We walk to the van where Steph, Kayla and Linden are watching us. I quickly give Bram a sidelong glance. “You really want me to like you, don’t you?”
He smiles, dimples and everything. “Oh, you like me. You just don’t know it yet.” He nods at Linden. “Come, brother, let’s go.”
I walk over to Ste
ph who will drive me and Kayla in her car.
Kayla calls out at Bram. “Did you really notice all those violations?”
Bram nods. “I’ve learned something as a building manager. And believe me, next week, I am putting a call into the fire department.”
The three of us stand on the curb and watch as he gets in the van and it starts with a rumble.
“Damn,” Kayla says as they drive off. “That was some hot shit.” She looks at me. “You’re lucky you’re moving in next to that guy.” She pauses, lips pursing. “Are you going to move into his bed too?”
I roll my eyes. “Hell no. I mean, maybe he’s a bit nicer than I thought at first,” Kayla raises her brows, “okay, a lot nicer, but he’s still a jackass.”
“Jackass is a strong word for you, miss manners,” she teases. “Does this have anything to do with what happened at the wedding?” she asks.
“No,” I say, glaring at her before I walk over to Steph’s car. “And you didn’t see anything, so don’t go thinking something happened between us. It didn’t. It really didn’t.”
I can feel Steph and Kayla exchanging a look behind my back.
Later in the car as we drive down Van Ness, Kayla taps me on the shoulder from the backseat. “Why do you think he’s a jackass?”
I blow a piece of hair that came loose from my bun. “Because…he’s a manwhore.”
“That doesn’t make him a jackass. That makes him fun.”
Which makes me “no fun,” I think, remembering what he’d said to me at the wedding.
“I just don’t trust guys like that,” I tell her after a moment.
“But you’re not dating him,” she says. “So you don’t have to worry about that, do you?”
I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t.” And really, I shouldn’t. But that night plays over and over in my head, the sweet feel of his lips, the sharp sting of rejection. It probably doesn’t help that the last man I kissed, the last person who turned me on and made me feeling something, instead of nothing, was Bram.
Once you go Bram, you won’t give a damn. But I did.
“Why all the questions Kayla?” Steph asks, her tone cautious as she eyes her in the rearview mirror.
“I can ask questions,” Kayla says.
“Mmm hmm. But you’ve got that look in your eyes.”
“What look? I’m Asian, you racist.”
“Shut up,” Steph says. “You know the look. The one you get when you find your next lay.”
Oh? I turn in my seat and look at Kayla. Yup, she’s got that look.
“Are you interested in Bram?” I ask her. Kayla had broken off her engagement with her ex-boyfriend a couple of years ago and now was always perpetually single but not for lack of trying. Any hot bod and she’s all over it. She even had a fling with Linden for a few weeks back in the day when Steph and him were just good friends. I’m not sure how Steph dealt with that but she doesn’t hold a grudge like I do.
Kayla shrugs casually but I can see right through her. “I don’t know. He’s just really hot, that’s all. And he’s got money. And he’s got that bad boy appeal but like the ante is upped because he’s a man, not a boy. I mean, now that’s a man. Like if you hooked up, he’d probably ruin your vagina for everyone after.”
I scrunch up my nose. “Way to be classy.”
“Yeah, Kayla, that’s my brother-in-law you’re talking about,” Steph admonishes her.
“So,” she says. “You’re not blood relatives. You told me you thought his brother was hot.”
“I did. But he’s not Linden.”
Kayla rolls her eyes and flops back into her seat. “Of course he’s not Linden. How dare anyone be even close to Linden?” she says mockingly. “You know, Steph, just because you’re married doesn’t make you blind.”
“Sure, but I don’t try and think of Bram as hot. Still, you’re right. He is. And if you don’t mind being played, then go right ahead and have your fun,” she says. “But don’t come crying to me if it doesn’t work out and don’t you dare fuck anything up with the nice relationship everyone has at the moment. You know you’ve done that once before,” she adds under her breath.
Ah, so Steph hasn’t forgotten the whole Linden and Kayla hookup.
Kayla grows quiet. We drive for a bit then she says, “Fine. I guess one McGregor brother was enough for me.”
I snap my head back at her and find Kayla grinning wickedly. Steph’s hands are growing white on the steering wheel. I feel like we’re seconds away from a catfight and I start wondering what I’ll do to try and break them apart. I’ve got strong arms from lifting Ava and booster seats.
But Kayla bursts out laughing and smacks Steph on the shoulder. “I’m fucking kidding! Jeez, can’t we joke about the past anymore?”
Steph gives her a dirty look. “Things change when you get married.”
“And that’s why I cancelled my wedding,” Kayla says. “I wasn’t ready for that. But you and Linden are. And don’t worry, I’m not going to go near Bram.” She looks at me. “He’s all yours.”
“Mine?” First of all, Bram isn’t anything of mine except for a landlord now, and second of all…I dunno. I don’t exactly appreciate being told I can have something as if I wouldn’t have had a chance with Bram if Kayla went after him.
I can feel Steph’s eyes dart between me and the road. “Nuh uh,” Steph says. “Nicola needs a nice guy. And while Bram is generous – I mean, he’s really stepped up his game lately as we all know – he’d chew her up and spit her out.”
“Might be fun to be chewed up, though,” Kayla says.
I wish that thought hadn’t already crossed my mind.
Finally we arrive at the apartment building and everything is so surreal. I realize it has in no way sunk in that I’ve moved to this place. I mean, the building isn’t anything special. It’s two stories with bump-out windows typical of the city and this pinkish taupe color that Bram says he’s going to have painted cobalt blue in a few weeks. But even though it’s on the old side, it’s clean and renovated. The small lobby has art deco-style tiles. There are no bars on the doors. People have doormats outside their doors and there are vivid watercolor paintings of the city in the halls.
My apartment is even better. It’s on the second floor and it’s a two-bedroom. Both of the bedrooms are barely big enough for a bed, but still, it means Ava can have her own space, something I know would make her really excited. I can’t wait until later tonight when my mom drops her off and she gets to see the place. We hadn’t had the time to check it out until now.
The kitchen is darling as well with white subway tiles and gleaming appliances and a window over the sink that looks down into the palm trees in the backyard that runs the length of the property. The city skyline stretches in the background, from the Transamerica Pyramid to the Top of the Mark. There are hardwood floors in all room and crown moldings on the walls. It’s absolutely gorgeous and perfectly me.
However, the moving in and unpacking seems to take longer than moving out, maybe because now that I’m here I am so damn excited that I can’t wait to start decorating and get everything in its perfect place. My furniture looks kind of shabby, and no longer in that chic way, so maybe when I get some money I can head up to IKEA as well.
Everyone is exhausted after the move and I wish I could buy them beer and pizza but Kayla is shunning carbs at the moment and Steph won’t let me spend my money. Bram disappears into his apartment – right next door, the corner unit – and comes out with a bottle of champagne and a six-pack. We all pull up a box and sit around, talking, drinking and stretching our aching muscles.
Eventually, Steph and Linden are the last to leave. It’s just me and Bram in my apartment now, which I guess is his apartment, and it’s at least another hour until my mom and Ava get here.
“So,” he says, folding his arms across his wide chest and standing, his legs askance. He surveys the living room, which is a disaster zone of boxes and furniture. “This is go
ing to be your home.”
“Until I get back on my feet,” I quickly remind him as I lean back against the kitchen counter.
“Well, I was under the impression that you’d pay rent as soon as you get on your feet. Doesn’t mean you have to leave. I mean, you like it here, don’t you?”
“I just got here.”
He eyes me suspiciously. “You’re having a hard time with this, aren’t you?”
“What?” I ask, hoping my face looks surprised.
He gestures to the room. “This whole arrangement. I really wish you’d learn to trust me.”
“I do trust you,” I say, then correct myself. “I think. But I barely know you.”
He takes a few steps forward and I find myself inching up against the counter. There’s a heated look in his eyes that makes me worried. “Well, don’t worry, sweetheart, you’re going to get to know me pretty well, whether you like it or not. We’re neighbors now, above anything else. You need a cup of sugar for your baking, come knock on my door. You need a roll of toilet paper, come knock on my door. You get caught up with some knob in the heat of the moment and you need a condom, come knock on my door. I have plenty.” He squints at me. “You do have sex, don’t you?”
I swallow hard and curse the heat that’s coming to my cheeks. Why the hell did I have to have that wine when I know it makes my face extra hot? “Of course I have sex,” I snap. “But neighbors don’t need to know about each other’s sex lives.”
“You’ve got that look again,” he says, his voice lower now, as he peers down at me and takes another step forward until there’s just a foot between us. “The way your cheeks are pink. Do you remember what I’d said about that?”
I did. That I’d look the same when I had an orgasm. “No and please don’t remind me.”
He licks his lips and nods. “All right.” He turns around and heads to the door. “I’m going out for the evening.” He glances at me over his shoulder. “I hope you enjoy your first night here. Say hello to the little one from me.”