by Brown, Tara
“Dude, stop,” Carson winks at me. “When Lori’s recovered, I’m sure we’ll all get some details.”
“She didn’t come for breakfast. Does she have a sore bottom, young Lawrence? Is that why you ran after the golf cart? She said you could play the back nine?” Brady laughs at his own joke.
“When has Lori ever given any of you honest details about his sex life?” Rich comes to my aid which I appreciate. “He’s always joking about fucking, but can you remember a genuine kiss and tell? No, he’s a gentleman.”
“When has Lori banged a girl worthy of my notice?” Brady asks, earning a hit in the arm from Nat.
But I say nothing.
“Cap’s noticeably missing too.” Brady’s eyes widen. “Did you have an orgy with Cap and the brunette?”
Offering nothing but a smug grin, I slowly sip my coffee, staring Brady down. My silence is killing him.
Nat knows it and winks at me.
“Come on, man!” Brady says loud enough to earn a scowl from Matt. “You sprinted after her golf cart. Sprinted, in those bullshit shoes Sami made us wear. And doesn’t your thigh hurt when you run right now? You almost died from sprints with Cap the other morning.” He points his fork at me but I offer nothing.
Carson laughs and nods. “Well played, Lori.” He nudges me.
Nat bursts into laughter.
“You assholes.” Brady throws in the towel and starts eating again. “Did she sleep over? Is that why you’re all tense and weird? You accidentally let her sleep over?”
“Breakfast is your favorite. Why aren’t you eating, Lori?” Sami interrupts.
“I’m not hungry,” I say loudly back and then lower my voice, “I ate a lot last night.” I offer a wink to Brady and get up from the table as everyone loses it.
“Come back here and tell me more!” Brady demands, but I wave over my head and walk to the rich side of the room to pay my respects before leaving.
The shaking hands and telling cheesy jokes portion of the morning drags on with my mind stuck on one thing, one person. I have to see her again. That can’t be the last time we hook up. We didn’t even get a proper goodbye and it’s not out of my system. Maybe I just need a couple more times.
But how do I see her again?
She was exactly as Bev said she would be, into the one-night stand only. She even left, doing the crawl of shame and leaving me to wake up alone. I don’t know if I’ve woken that disappointed before.
And what kind of girl asks for a fuck?
And then thanks you and sneaks out in the morning after she sleeps over and makes your whole bed smell like her?
Goddamn.
I thought I’d seen it all but that was new.
Finally, the breakfast is ending. I wave and offer my grandfather’s best to them all, though he hates most of them, and follow Carson and Rich out.
“Bro, honest to God, when you ran after her golf cart, I almost spit my drink.”
“Yeah, me too,” Carson agrees with his boyfriend, laughing.
“Hey, wait up!” Bev calls after us. We stop so she can catch up, something I regret the moment I see her smug grin. “How ya feeling this morning, Lori?”
“Fine,” I’m scared of the question. It feels like a trap.
“Was that your first time with a real woman?” Bev links her arm in mine and they all laugh at me, but I join them, shaking my head.
“You guys are the worst. Why is no one bugging Cap about the brunette?”
“Because she’s nice and sweet, and they probably did it missionary and then made sandwiches afterward while he told her about the highlights from his last game,” Rich says, making Carson burst out laughing.
“That’s how I pictured it too,” Carson agrees.
“Absolutely.” Bev giggles.
“Anyway.” I give Bev a side-glance. “You leaving soon?”
“Yeah, gotta get Gran and Gramps home. You guys?”
“I want to leave before Sami and those guys. They’ll need to take care of things here and I want to get home.”
“Ride with us. We’re leaving now. I have a family thing tomorrow, so we’re going to my parents’ place,” Rich offers.
“Yeah, all right. Thanks. I’ll meet you guys at the front desk in like thirty?” I glance at my watch, hating that it’s already one.
“You hoping to catch Jenny at the airport?” Bev nudges, not giving up on it.
“No,” I say casually. “This whole thing is insane. I don’t have my phone to call my pilot to meet me at the airport and I left my plane in New York. And Simon’s probably missing me.”
“You’re such a weirdo,” Carson mocks me as they turn right to go to their cabin. Bev walks me to my door, noticing when I glimpse at Jenny’s side to check if she’s there. But her golf cart’s gone.
“I know I said it was a one-night-stand situation but if you want her number, I might be able to help you out.”
“What?” I pull out my key and offer Bev a look. “You have it?”
“Maybe.” She is too smug for this not to be something, her and the Jenny thing. Something’s up.
“What did you do? Did you set us up? Is this some bullshit matchmaker thing?” I don’t know why but that bothers me.
“Nope.” Bev taps her nose. “I knew you two would be the perfect weekend buddies. I made the concierge put her next to you on purpose. I figured some cute redhead might help you with your little problem.”
“But you said you didn’t know she was some awesome—”
“Ha! You think she’s awesome.” She points. “All I want to hear from you is thank you, Cousin Bev.” She taps her nose again and leaves the cabin.
“You’re so weird,” I shout after her as she closes the door.
I have no idea what the hell just happened or what the hell she means. And now, I have no idea how to solve the new problem I have. Because as much as Bev played matchmaker for a one-night stand, I doubt she understands how hard she hit this one on the head. Which makes me uncomfortable. I’m becoming the girl at the wedding all hopped up on the marriage steroids and wanting to cling to this.
No way.
I need to back off.
But the problem is only one small part of me is saying I shouldn’t see Jenny again. And I should avoid her and the feelings she has invoked in no time at all.
But the rest of me screams that I have an hour to get to the airport and hope I can catch her. I race to the door, ripping it open and shouting, “I wanna know everything.”
Bev stops in her tracks and spins back to me. “Then you better hurry up, lover boy.”
I race like a madman around the cottage, grabbing my shit and stuffing bags.
There’s no time to wait for Carson and Rich.
I’m a man on a mission.
19
Billionaires’ Row
Jenny
“I have a hundred and forty-seven texts, six hundred and eleven emails, and fifteen voicemails.” Sukii glances over her phone at me as we get back onto the main road and our data is working again.
My phone is no better. “Oh God.” I wince seeing them all adding up.
The phone rings immediately with Stan’s number.
“Hello?” I put him on speaker so Sukii can hear too, in case we’re busted for misbehaving.
“Jenny, how are you? Not too hungover I hope.” He laughs and I grimace.
“No, sir. Sukii and I are on our way home now, you’re on speaker.”
“Hi, Stan,” Sukii shouts.
“Hello, my dear. Did you girls have fun?” He sounds like a grandpa asking his grandkids if they had fun at summer camp.
“We did. The wedding was stunning. You missed out. The food was the best ever. Thank you so much for asking us to go,” Sukii gushes.
“Oh good, that makes me happy. And, Jenny, I wanted to tell you the driver who is picking you up at the airport will have your new keys and take you to the building. The move was easy and the guys have you all ready to go. The
y put furniture where they thought it should go.”
“Oh—th-thank you.” I feel so weird and actually a little sick about this. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“No, it was my pleasure. The least I could do after springing this on you. Anyway, we’ve had a heck of a week here and are excited for you two to get back. Jenny, I know I said take tomorrow off, but could you come in? I need you.”
“Of-of course. If you want me to get started on some things now, send them to me. I have the flight and I’m sure we’ll have some delays. Plus my laptop is fully charged from being powered down all week.” I laugh but the reality of the apartment and owing him a blood debt and now all the catch-up I have is giving me heartburn.
“No, no. I’ve sent the company jet to get you. They’re waiting for you. Go home and unpack your boxes. Get settled. I’ll see you girls in the morning.” His jovial tone is forced for our benefit. Something’s wrong. Is he regretting giving me the apartment? Does he know about Cap and Lawrence? I can’t handle this.
“Okay,” Sukii says as if this is all just fine.
“Rest up.” He hangs up the phone with a ruffling sound like he’s brushing a microphone against his jacket.
“Oh, Stan.” Sukii lies back in the limo and sighs when the phone call ends. But he doesn’t stay the topic of discussion for long. “So Cap gave me his digits and asked me out for dinner tomorrow night.” She lifts her eyebrows and offers a sly grin.
Deciding not to stress out right now, and frankly I’m too tired for it, I go along. “He means business. Who asks someone out for a date on a Monday?”
“I know,” she squeals. “I really like him. We went fishing and hung out and spent as much time by ourselves as we could. It was nice.” She blushes and lowers her gaze to the floor.
Fortunately, she was so preoccupied with Cap all weekend, she doesn’t know about Lawrence and me.
“How are you feeling about Ben now that we’re going home?” she changes the subject again. Sometimes with her it’s like facing a tommy-gun firing squad, and I’m not in a great place for it right now.
“I didn’t think about him much.” It’s not a lie. “And I guess now that I am, I feel a bit weird about my decision to ghost him,” I choke back the words, hating that I did it.
“You shouldn’t. The guy’s a twat.”
I snort.
“And don’t think you’re getting off easy, I’m coming home with you. I wanna see the new digs and help.”
“Dude, we’re both exhausted.”
“All the more reason for me to come and help.” She squeezes my hand before letting go and getting comfortable.
Deciding to use the time to distract myself, I comb through my messages and open my emails to tackle the list of them.
It takes the whole drive from the farm to the airport for me to junk out and answer with quick responses of calling back tomorrow.
We climb out as the driver gets the door. The air is warmer here out of the mountains. A valet comes for us, directing us to the private jet. I’ve never been on one before but it’s everything I expect and hope for.
Comfy leather seats, snacks and beverages, and the ability to lie back flat. After the night I had, closing my eyes on the jet is a nice surprise.
Landing at the airport is discombobulating.
For half a second, I have the strangest sensation I have nowhere to go. Or rather I don’t know the way home. It’s odd and keeps me moving quickly after the valet who has our bags on a trolley. But the familiar smell and feel of New York is calming.
“I can’t believe it’s over. I could swear we were at that wedding for a year. It’s like the lotus-eaters,” Sukii says as we climb into the limo.
“I know.” I laugh, still in disbelief of the turn of events. Only I would go from screaming at and mocking a guy to having the most insane sex with him.
“But you had fun, right? Even with all the shouting at Lawrence and them forcing you to play the drums.” She cackles.
“I still can’t believe Stan told Bev that I helped my brother with the band when I was seventeen.” I cover my face, sensing the steam starting to rise.
“Oh man, it was so amazing seeing your face.” Sukii holds her stomach and laughs harder. “It was like when Phil from Accounting found that old video on YouTube of you playing with the band and sent it to the office.”
“And all you assholes changed your ringtones to the song so I had to listen to it for weeks.” I fold my arms over my chest. “I hate you all.”
“You make it so easy to target you.” She slaps my thigh and wipes her eyes. “Who plays the drums and guitar and shoots like an assassin and speaks multiple languages and was on Team Canada for two gold medals? Like overachieve less.”
“Shut up,” I mutter. “Canada is bilingual. And my mom was the music and French teacher at my school. And I don’t know if you’ve been to North Vancouver Island, but it rains ten months of the year. It was a lot of time to perfect random shit like the drums.”
“You and I both know you’re a rock star, maybe not the same way Josh is, but you’re amazing.” She cocks an eyebrow. “So no one feels sorry for you. You’re like one of those homeschooled kids, but you also have a killer personality to go with it.”
“Lots of homeschooled kids have great personalities.”
“Yeah, they need multiple to get through the boredom. Trust me, I did a semester of it. I was a week away from making myself a Wilson handprint volleyball like Tom Hanks.” She sits up and looks out the window. “Dude, he’s turning onto Sixth Ave. Oh my God!”
My stomach drops because the rent in this part of town has another zero at the end of my measly twelve hundred dollars we agreed to. “Oh no,” I whisper and press my face against the car window, seeing the expensive buildings as we pass them.
My breath becomes harder to inhale, and when he turns right onto West Fifty-eighth, all the blood drains from my face.
“Oh snap,” Sukii says, her eyes meeting mine. “How much did he say he was gonna let you pay?”
“Oh God, oh God, I can’t breathe.” I loosen the buttons on my blouse and heave my breaths.
“Get it together,” Sukii retorts, patting my back.
“Is something wrong?” the driver asks as he opens the door.
“No.” Sukii scoffs and shoves me out of the car. “She’s just so excited.” She pushes me up to the door where the doorman rushes over and opens it.
“You must be Ms. Snowdon. I’m Eric, if you need anything at all, let me know.” He holds out a gloved hand.
With a professional, albeit sweaty, smile, I take his hand. “Yes, I am. Nice to meet you.”
“You as well. Mr. Levisohn said you would be arriving around now. That man is uncanny.” He chuckles and helps the driver with the bags.
“Oh, he’s something.” I walk into the stunning foyer. It brings to mind the reception of a beautiful hotel with sitting areas on either side of the check-in desk with double elevators, one for each sitting area.
“Building 58 is a wonderful community of people. We have twenty-four-hour concierge and doorman. The super lives in the building, which is nice. His name’s Xavier Timmons and he’s wonderful.” He hands me a card with Xavier’s name on it. “We’re one block from Bergdorf’s and the park. Carnegie Hall is right there. It’s a prime location.”
My head is spinning.
I accept this.
The driver hands Sukii a small envelope as she tips him.
“Enjoy.” He waves and leaves us.
I’m still homeless in my mind.
My fingers are trembling and I’m grateful Sukii decided to stay.
“Your apartment is on the fifteenth floor, great view. It’s 15C.” He presses the elevator button for us. “I’ll come up after with the bags. Let you go in and see for yourself first.” His eyes sparkle with excitement. He knows I’ve won the lottery. The apartment lottery. But he’s the only one excited. I feel sick.
My knees are wea
k when Sukii shoves me into the elevator.
“How can I accept this?” I ask us both.
“Because Stan owns the building. You’re a tax write-off. You work your ass off and this week is the first time you’ve booked any days off in five years. You always help with the worst clients. You never complain.” Sukii stares at me in the mirrored walls. “And if Stan plays the long game, you’ll end up being one of the partners, and he will have your undying loyalty because of this. He’s old. He’s outdated. And honestly, between us, he’s out of his league. Having you on his side means he can keep control of some aspects of the company when he retires.”
“You’re smarter than you look.” I won’t lie, the black-and-white explanation makes this a little dirtier. I’m being bought and I didn’t even know I was for sale.
“I know.” She winks. “Being underestimated is my jam.”
The elevator lands on the fifteenth floor and the doors open, making my frazzled nerves twitch a bit more.
The hallway is like a hotel. Sukii takes the key out of the envelope and hurries to the door. She’s so excited to see the place, but I’m at odds with accepting such a grand gift.
The door to 15C is dark wood with a fancy door knob, matching the other doors. She turns the key.
My stomach twists more until the door opens.
Then I’m frozen.
It’s not at all what I expect. There’s a long hallway with a door leading to a powder room on the left. Next to it are three closets, making up an entryway. On the right are tall windows, nearly as high as the ceilings which seem double the height of my old apartment.
The floors are a wide plank beachy wood, reminding me of driftwood on the island. The trim is wide and white, making the hallway modern and stylish against the silvery pale-blue walls.
We round the corner to discover my house is sort of set up.
“How can I possibly accept this?” I whisper and stare, blown away. “This is like selling my soul.”
My gray sofas and white coffee table match the walls perfectly. The view from all the windows is insane, the city and park.