by Avery Lane
“May I peek upstairs?” Sierra asked.
“Go ahead.”
“Babe, you want to come?” Sierra looked at Brighton. He was now inspecting a hand-painted sideboard boasting a collection of Limoges porcelain.
“In a second,” Brighton muttered.
Oh wow, another three-word sentence, Riley smirked.
Sierra narrowed her eyes at the back of his head, pausing a second before proceeding upstairs.
Riley wandered out back into the tiny garden.
They had held their ceremony there, surrounded by the fresh tomatoes, figs, and herbs that the Bissets planted around the perimeter of the space.
Riley’s mother had paid for their wedding, something she still felt kind of guilty about. Judy was over the moon to hear that Riley was getting married – mostly because it meant that there’d be someone official to “watch” over her.
Judy had hated the idea of her daughter leaving their small upstate farm town to go to school in the city because that meant Riley would be out of smothering distance. When Judy actually allowed her to go (after a week-long meltdown), Riley thought her mother did so because she had come up with a plan to move into the city with her. Judy had always been that type of mother. Even though the whole purpose of leaving their small town was to put some distance between them, Riley had already prepared herself for the possibility of Judy tagging along.
But to her surprise, Judy didn’t budge. She said she couldn’t leave the house where her husband had passed. Where she had raised her daughter. It was her first win over Judy. The very first time she was able to make a decision of her own.
The fact that Judy paid for her wedding still made her uncomfortable, the way that her finding the office space made Riley uncomfortable. It meant that she was still accepting help from her mother, despite insisting on keeping their distance.
Judy loved her. Riley recognized that. But she was just never really able to stomach the way Judy expressed it.
Riley had always heard that women instinctively sought husbands similar to their fathers. But Riley never knew her father. So instead, she picked a husband like her mother – possessive, controlling, and providing of a special brand of “care” that crippled her sense of autonomy.
But as she stood there in her wedding venue, remembering her mother proudly walking her down the aisle, she felt bad about how little she spoke with Judy these days. Riley needed the distance just so she could continue to breathe normally, to live normally. And Judy was just a constant reminder of all the things in the world that she should be afraid of, all the things she was incapable of.
The fact that Judy respected the distance now almost made her feel worse. Where once she would call the police if Riley didn’t answer a text within the hour, Judy had now grown used to only hearing from Riley once every two weeks. In that phone call, they would provide each other a stoic bullet-point list of everything new in their lives.
But it had gotten difficult again since her split with Evan. Judy’s worst worries were all flaring up again, Riley just knew it.
So she let herself miss their phone call this week. And to make it worse, she hadn’t even informed Judy of her new number.
“Look at this trellis!”
Riley turned to see Brighton had stepped outside behind her and was now running his fingers over the latticework that held up the tomato vines.
It was the most excitement and the most words she had heard out of him all day.
“You really like woodworking, don’t you?” Riley teased.
“It’s my job,” Brighton replied. “It’s good to like your job, right?”
“Of course,” Riley said. His earnestness was refreshing. She walked up behind him as he continued to study the woodwork before him.
“I think this used to be a door, you see?” He pointed his finger around the perimeter of the trellis, ending on the cut out circle where a doorknob used to be. “Yep. I thought so.” He was talking to himself more than he was to Riley.
“Where’d you learn woodworking?” Riley asked.
“My grandfather,” Brighton replied. “My dad wasn’t interested in it growing up so he was more than happy to teach me. We mostly worked with fresh timber back then. Where we lived up in Vermont there was plenty. But here, I do mostly repurposed stuff.”
“That’s what’s in now, right?”
“Yeah, but I do it not because it’s ‘in,’” he smiled. “I just think it’s what’s right, to reuse rather than create new waste. And repurposing is about second chances and new lives. It just feels…meaningful. And inspiring.”
Riley cocked her head, studying Brighton as his attention moved from the trellis to the tomato plants it held. He reached up to touch a green one, as if punctuating his spur of the moment poetry. She felt her heart flutter. Second chances, new lives…repurposing. Making old things new. She loved the sentiment. In his simple statement, she made Riley feel like all those things were possible for her own life.
“I really like that,” Riley finally said.
Brighton turned to her. Suddenly, he looked a bit embarrassed, as if he had only then realized he said everything aloud.
Then he burst out laughing.
Riley couldn’t help but feel charmed. There was something alluring about his quiet energy. The fact that he rationed his words somehow made him feel all the more captivating.
And there was something in his crystal blue eyes that suggested more depth than he cared to express. Riley reminded herself that quiet people always appeared smarter, just because they had less chances to put their foot in their mouth.
She suddenly realized they had held their silent gaze for far too long.
Riley quickly looked away, exhaling quickly as she tugged on her earlobe to stop her fidgety hands. She blushed.
“Everything okay?” Brighton asked, furrowing his brows.
“Of course,” Riley replied, nervously. She hoped he hadn’t detected the flicker of attraction she had felt. It was just a flicker. “Why do you ask that?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Brighton frowned, as if suddenly wondering why he had asked that himself. “I think it’s because Sierra does that when she’s upset, so I just assumed…you were.”
“What do I do?” Sierra asked, appearing suddenly in the doorframe.
“You know, that thing…” Brighton’s voice tapered down to a much softer volume. Riley watched as whatever glimpse into his personality she had gotten retreated once again. “With your ear.”
“Oh, that thing,” Sierra replied. She turned to Riley to explain. “I tug on my ear when I’m cranky. I don’t know where I picked that up.”
“That’s funny,” Riley said. “I don’t think I ever realized I even did that until Brighton pointed it out.”
“Why are you cranky?”
“I’m not.” Riley pursed her lips.
She really wasn’t. She just felt weird being attracted to her client.
She also felt a bit strange about how quickly Brighton changed as soon as Sierra reappeared.
It reminded her of Evan – or more specifically, the way Riley was around him.
She realized she was still pulling at her ear. It took quite a bit of effort to force her hands back down to her sides. They stayed there for just a second before she opted to play with the pendant on her bracelet again.
“So what’d you think of the upstairs?” Riley asked.
“Oh my God, it’s incredible,” Sierra said, clutching at her heart. “I love the bay window overlooking the garden. It’s so cozy and homey and absolutely everything I want.”
“Really?” Riley asked, half excited, half not looking forward to having to work in what now felt like a graveyard for her marriage.
“What do you think, babe?” she asked Brighton.
He thought for a beat.
Sierra arched a shapely eyebrow, her lips pressed into a thin line as she watched her fiancé. It was as if she was surprised he had his own opinion.
&n
bsp; Brighton caught the look. His expression quickly changed to match her initial enthusiasm.
“I love it too!” he said. “It really is perfect.”
“Well, then it’s settled!” Sierra exclaimed. Her limbs exploded outwards as she leaped onto her fiancé and wrapped her slender arms around his neck and her long legs around his waist.
Brighton’s feigned enthusiasm quickly became something real. He lowered Sierra to the ground so he could plant a hard kiss on her mouth.
Riley smiled for them, although inside, she couldn’t shake that odd feeling of déjà vu.
Evan had looked warm and friendly from the outside, but it was all a ruse.
She wondered if the same could be said for Sierra.
9
A long day of venue shopping usually ended in the comfort of her pajamas, reclined on her couch, wrapped around a tub of Trader Joe’s mini chocolate chip cookies.
But today was another catch up day, and tonight, she’d be forced to cross the 9pm threshold at the office.
The urgency of Sierra and Brighton’s wedding had stolen Riley’s focus from her other open accounts. She was long overdue for status updates on all her other projects – what she could recall off the top of her head to be a product reveal party by a whiskey distillery in Vinegar Hill, a new hotel’s employee training event in Dumbo, and a retirement party at a law firm in Brooklyn Heights.
She had asked Marco to leave the binders out on her desk for her so that she could get straight to it once she got into the office.
The building looked different at night – even more vast and empty than it did during the day. As she swiped her card in through the front door, she just about felt the emptiness in her bones. Despite the warm spring air, there was a sharp coldness inside.
The stairwell door slammed behind her, echoing just a bit louder without the usual ambient noise of distant jackhammers and table saws. The second floor was almost pitch black, but had the faintest blue-grey glow from the moonlight outside.
Riley hated that the motion sensor hall lights took its time to turn on. She certainly didn’t love having to stare into the dark abyss for longer than she had to. She also took it as an affront towards her diminutive physique – as if even electronics had trouble spotting her.
She raised her hands above her head, waving her arms until one of the overhead lights began to warm up and then click – the entire floor was flooded with fluorescent.
Riley rushed down the hall, her keys out and ready to just get in and get out.
She raised it to the door, pressing it into the lock.
She missed the opening, causing the tiniest little spark as the key scratched the side of the lock. It was just the slightest force, but suddenly, the door creaked open.
It had been left unlocked.
It was uncharacteristic of Marco to be anything short of extremely responsible, but Riley chalked it up to the confusion of having to share a set of office keys ever since she lost her own. With the backlog of work, they hadn’t had a chance to get a new copy. But she knew that continuing to pass the key back and forth was only going to create more issues.
She switched on the light and immediately noticed the binders pulled out on her desk, like she had asked for. But rather than lined neatly side by side, like Marco always made sure to do, the binders were laid out crooked with its pages flipped open haphazardly.
Riley made a beeline towards the desk. Dear lord, was Marco drunk or something?
They had always shared a strong dislike for dog-eared pages. It was, embarrassingly, a key factor to why Riley hired him over another perfectly qualified candidate in the first place.
What was he thinking leaving everything out all sloppy like that?
She lowered herself into her white leather Herman Miller chair, spinning it to face her desk.
Each binder was opened to the itinerary for the date of each event.
A restrained exhale crept out from between her lips.
From the opposite corner, someone exhaled back.
Riley gasped, jumping to her feet.
It wasn’t paranoia this time.
Right in the spot she had seem him last stood Evan.
“You blocked my number again,” he said, matter-of-factly. As if it was totally normal for him to be there.
No, I changed my number, Riley thought. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.
“How’d you get in here?” she asked. Oh my God, he must’ve taken my keys that day…
“You forced me out of my own home by making me seem like some kind of monster,” Evan spat, ignoring her question. “When in reality, you were the one who made me this way.”
Riley gripped her phone in her hand, trying to sneak in a dial to 911. She wanted to appear casual, like she wasn’t afraid. She didn’t want to tip him off to what she was doing.
But Evan spotted it right away.
He lunged towards her, striking her arms so hard that her phone fell from her hands and skidded across the floor.
Riley gasped, her forearms stinging from the impact. She ran towards the phone, but he had grabbed hold of her, spinning her around.
She looked up at Evan in shock.
She had truly believed it when she said that she didn’t think Evan would lay a hand on her, no matter how bad he got. Did this really just happen? Did it count? This has to count. She felt the pain radiating through her arms. This counted. This definitely counted.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. Oh my God.
Oh my God.
Riley was alone with a madman in her empty office building on the quietest possible corner of an already quiet neighborhood.
And she didn’t know this Evan.
She didn’t know how to predict his next move, react to him. She had no idea this was even underneath the man she thought she had figured out over the last decade.
How could this be? How could she get someone so wrong?
Evan wrapped his hands around her upper arms, holding her so tight she could already feel the inevitable bruises.
“You’re hurting me,” she whispered. Her voice warbled. She sounded weak. She looked up at the unrecognizable expression on Evan’s face. How could you be this stupid? How could you not know he was capable of this?
He’s going to kill me.
Oh my God, he’s going to kill me.
“Are you ready to listen to me?” he bellowed. There was vodka on his breath. His eyes were tearing, red. What had he been doing?
“Yes! Yes, of course,” Riley sputtered. She tried to force a smile for him. Maybe that could calm him? If she looked friendly? She must’ve looked maniacal. She sure felt it. “Let’s talk. Let’s talk now, I’m listening.”
Riley watched Evan’s eyes track the tear she could feel rolling down her cheek.
She felt faint. She felt out of body. She felt her vision brown out.
Then, she felt a second pair of hands grab her by the waist and suddenly, Evan’s body flew backwards.
He landed hard on the ground as he clutched his stomach.
“Are you okay?” a gruff voice asked.
Gabriel.
“I don’t know,” Riley answered, still in shock. She felt Gabriel push her back as he lunged for Evan again, grabbing him by the front of his shirt.
“Who the hell are you?” Evan yelled, pulling at Gabriel’s arms in vain. Riley realized he was struggling to get his feet firmly on the ground as Gabriel dragged him towards the front door.
“You’re trespassing,” Gabriel bellowed. “Would you like me to call the cops?”
“What, so I can report you for assault?” Evan sneered. Gabriel tugged his shirt upwards, pulling Evan into an even more awkward position. He flailed, his face turning red.
“I’m giving you a choice, which I think is very generous of me,” Gabriel said, coolly. “I can call the cops and you’ll wait here to be arrested. Or you can fuck off forever and if I ever see you near Riley again, assault will be the least of your worries.”
“You don’t scare me,” Evan sputtered. It was a struggle for him to say even that much.
“If you were smart, I really should.” Gabriel let go of Evan’s shirt, letting him crumple to the ground.
Evan pushed himself up, making a line drive into Gabriel’s torso.
With just one hand, Gabriel blocked Evan’s efforts. Then he grabbed him by the crick of his neck and dragged him out like an oversized rag doll.
10
After catching her breath, Riley ran out after Gabriel and Evan. She was surprised to find the hallway already empty – and then the stairwell. They had somehow already managed to leave the building.
She sped up, worried over what she was about to witness outside.
Evan had just done what Riley never thought he could do. He had struck her, restrained her.
And now Gabriel was maybe going to kill him?
As awful as everything had been, she didn’t want Gabriel to kill Evan, for all of their sakes. It would be a bad end for all of them.
Out on the sidewalk, the night air felt biting and the slight breeze had carried the canal’s infamous odor onto their block. Gabriel held Evan by the forearms the way Evan had held her earlier.
Now, finally, Evan appeared scared.
Riley ran towards them, her heels clicking furiously. Neither of them looked over.
In the moonlight, the glint of something hanging from Evan’s belt caught her eye.
Her keys.
He had taken them after all.
“Give them back,” Gabriel commanded as Riley approached.
With his motion still limited, Evan obeyed, reaching into his pocket carefully and handing the keys over to Riley.
“There are cameras in the building that have recorded you trespassing, do you understand that?” Gabriel asked.
“She wouldn’t have that office if it weren’t for me,” Evan said.
“Sounds like you can’t handle her having something you can’t touch.”
“Please,” Evan scoffed. He turned just slightly towards Riley. “Half that business is mine. I supported you while you were building it. If you were to divorce me, you’d owe that much to me. Keep that in mind.”