The Arrogant Architect

by LK Collins

  “I’m not staring at you.”His tone is offended and he’s quick to recover. “But you can get naked, if you want.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “I like your mouth.”

  “Yeah? Well, I don’t like yours, and I really, really don’t want to deal with you right now.”

  The coffee begins to brew and I’m forced to turn around. The sink is empty of dishes, so I have nothing else to keep myself busy.

  “I wish you did.”

  “What do you want?” I ask him.

  “I come bearing gifts.” He unbuttons his suit coat, this one is gray and sleek, and he pulls out a folded piece of paper from the inside pocket, handing it to me.

  “You know I don’t want any of your gifts.”

  “Well, this one I am legally obligated to deliver to you and I think you’ll like it.”

  Slowly I open the paper as he watches me, studying my every move. My heart stammers reading the letter he gave me. A feeling of relief rushes over me, like never before, and I shake my head so utterly confused. Why would he do this? Looking up at him, I blink away the tears and ask him the question he keeps asking me. “Why?”

  “Why not?”

  “Don’t. Don’t fuck with me like this. This letter says…” I trail off and turn my back to him. “What kind of person would do something like this?”

  “Me? Did you really think that I was gonna sit back and let you get evicted? I might be a dick, but I’m not heartless, and I told you I wanted to help.”

  “But I didn’t need your help.”

  “Ever, look around you, all of your things are packed. In two days, you were gonna move out of here. Face it…you needed my help.”

  He turns me towards him, the beating of my heart is off the charts, and I look back down at the paper.

  “You don’t seem happy,” he whispers and runs his fingers into his long combed back hair.

  “I’m in shock, King. Who buys someone they barely know, an apartment building?”

  “I do.”

  Wiping my eyes dry on a paper towel, I ask him, “Why? You don’t even know me.”

  “But I want to. My back is against a wall when it comes to you, Ever. You confuse me and challenge me and make me want you. You’ve left me no choice– I heard the pain in your voice when you called me.”

  “But it wasn’t your place to fix.”

  “What’s done is done. We started off on the wrong foot and I want to make that right. I want you to go out on one date with me, that’s all I’m asking.”

  “So, that’s really why you did this? Not because you saw how hurt I was, you wanted something in return.”

  “We all want something in return. I just thought of it first.”

  “No, you stooped to that level first. I’m not going out with you.”

  “Then I’ll serve you with an eviction notice myself.”

  I scoff at him. This motherfucker is so twisted, he’s leaving me with no choice. I have to.

  Holding his hands out in a conciliatory gesture, he says, “One date, then the building is yours and you can stay here for as long as you’d like. You can even sell it and pocket the money.”

  “You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” I toss the paper towel into the trash and he says, “Come on, one date.”

  I contemplate my options as I don’t fully trust him. I’ve seen that he’s…loony. And that’s me stating it nicely. He’s got me stuck with my back stuffed so far into the corner I don’t see another option. He’s manipulating me, the way Mistee wants me to do to Ross. What is wrong with people?

  “One date?” he pleads for a third time, like a kid begging their parents for a new puppy.

  “Fine, but I want it in writing,”

  “Absolutely, that’s fair. I’ll have my attorney draw it up.” He’s dead serious, and I tell him, “No, I meant on a napkin or something.”

  “Oh…okay.” He pulls a pen out of his jacket pocket and takes a seat on my couch. I watch him closely, his coat unbuttoned, his tight dress shirt straining the muscles of his stomach, and he writes deliberately on the back of the notice that I was holding. His face is strained as he concentrates on what he’s doing, and I find myself undressing him with my eyes for the first time. Feeling damp between my legs imagining what he looks like underneath. Then he says, “How’s this?” and hands me the paper.

  Reading the back of it, I can’t help but chuckle. Clearly he’s an architect, the way it is all mapped out and perfect. It reads, I, Kingsley Lennox, promise to gift Everly Adams the building located at 1888 Rawlings Avenue and will not evict her if she will go out on one date with me, and it’s already signed by him.

  “It’s perfect.”

  I set it on the table as he stares at me. My breathing quickens and he reaches for my lips, touching them. His fingers are so soft and warm. But I pull away, not letting him touch me. One date is all I need to get through, and then I am done with him. I’ve hurt him pulling away, I can see that. His forehead is creased and he says, “Six o’clock tonight?”

  “No, seven.” Maybe I’m being unnecessarily contrary, but I won’t give in on one more thing to this man.

  He takes the paper back and folds it, placing it back into his coat, then buttons it and walks out of my home. Completely dumbfounded, I’m not sure how to feel. Part of me is pissed at the fact that he’s manipulating me into going out with him and the other finds it kinda sexy that he bought me a fucking apartment building. I mean, it’s not everyday that you find someone who is willing to go to such great lengths to get your attention.

  Chapter 10

  Rummaging through my closet for something remotely nice to wear, I’m beginning to realize that I need to go shopping. Besides my workout clothes and random tank tops, I really don’t have anything. And I can bet that King will be wearing a suit, ready to go to the most expensive restaurant there is.

  Which is so not like me. Lying back on my bed frustrated, I look up at the ceiling and contemplate cancelling. But I can’t, and I realize if I am going to survive tonight, I need to take some control too. Getting my ass off my bed I dress in my tightest yoga pants and a sports bra. Not wanting to look too trashy, I throw a tank top over it. Taking my hair, that for once I actually curled, I pull it into a ponytail and observe my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

  My makeup can stay, I worked hard at it. Grabbing my tennis shoes and taking them to the living room, he knocks, right on time. I try and calm my nerves reminding myself to keep in control and to not let King get the better of me. As I open the door, there he is all mouthwateringly sexy, with a gigantic bouquet of flowers and a large white box. “Oh good, you didn’t get dressed yet,” he says, leaning down and hugging me.

  “Come in,” I brave my face, still calming my heart from his hands on me like that again.

  “These are for you,” he hands me the flowers and I take them to the kitchen. He places the white box on the island as I put the flowers in a vase.

  “I got this for you too.”

  “Thank you,” I tell him and open the box. Inside is a labyrinth of black material, and right away, I can tell it’s a dress. “No way,” I snap, pissed that he thinks he can take the control to a level like this.

  “Come on, what’s wrong? You don’t like black either?”

  “It’s not the color, King,” I snicker at him. “Don’t you get that? It’s you presciently pushing things on me and trying to tell me what to do.”

  “I was only trying to help, that’s all.”

  “Well, I don’t need your help, or anyone’s. I’m not wearing that dress.”

  “Well, you can’t go to dinner dressed like that.”

  “I’m not going to dinner.”

  “Yes, you are,” he growls, “We have an agreement, you can’t back out.”

  “No.” I step to him again, short quick breaths tremoring through my body as I put my foot down and tell him, “You have reservations. I’m going for a hike. That is what I want to do, not t
hat you care.”

  “Of course I care,” he says.

  “Well…you said you wanted to go out with me, so you can either hike in those hideous ass loafers,” I insult his shoes again and the pain is immediately visible across his face, “Or you can change and meet me there.”

  “What is wrong with these shoes?” he shouts and I laugh at him, loving how easily I can get a rise out of him with something so simple.“What about food?” he asks.

  “I’ll bring us some protein bars.”

  He paces in my living room and finally says, “I have a gym bag in my car. Can I use your bathroom to change?”

  “Sure. Help yourself to whatever you need– you own the place after all.”

  He rolls his eyes and walks outside. I lift the lid off the box and peek in at the dress again. It’s my size. How does he know? And it cost $1300.00. Dang. Closing the box back up, I shake off the mix of emotions brought out by this creepy yet sweet yet controlling yet psycho yet beautiful gesture and grab two protein bars, then fill my camel pack with water. I need to stay focused. He comes in with his gym bag in hand and I show him the restroom. He’s kinda tall and my bathroom is a little small, so I consider offering him my bedroom.

  Nah…he’ll manage.

  “I’ll be waiting out here.”

  He smirks at me and closes the door in my face. I walk off, putting my shoes on, my ears are open as I knot the laces listening to him. But he’s not making any noise. As I tie my last shoe and stand up, there he is. Holy fuck. His right arm is completely covered in tattoos. I’d seen the one on his hand, but I guess I didn’t think there were more. “Do you mind if I leave this stuff here?”

  “Not at all,” I swallow answering, not realizing at first the implications of allowing him to do so. It means that he’ll have to comeback in later. But knowing him, he probably already has a key. With my camel pack on my shoulder, I try not to look at him, my eyes wanting to stare only at his arm and ask him, “You ready, boy?”

  “Yeah.”

  Walking out, I lock up and he says, “Where are we headed, girl?”

  I roll my eyes, hoping I can make it through tonight without killing him and burying him in the forest. “Weetamoo Woods, you ever been?”

  “No. You know how to get there?” he asks me.

  “Uhh, yeah, that’s kinda why we’re going. It’s one of my favorite places to hike.”

  We exit the building and his white car is parked on the street, and I ask him, “What kind of car is this?”

  “An Aston Martin. You ever driven in one?”

  “I’ve never seen one, until yours.”

  He takes my pack and puts it in the trunk and then opens the door for me. Sliding inside, the interior is a deep orange leather, and it smells like King. I breathe in the scent as he comes around the car, not realizing how much I like it.

  “Buckle up,” he says, bringing the engine to life. “Which way?” I point in the direction that he’s headed and slowly he drives away.

  “So tell me about yourself, Ever.”

  “What do you want to know?” I watch him drive– he’s calm, but confident, taking the corners with more speed than most.

  “Everything.”

  I smile and he looks at me, returning the gesture. “You should do that more often.”

  “What?”

  “Smile.”

  “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?” I flip the question.

  “You already know who I am. You obviously Googled me since you called my office and lied to my assistant about who you were.”

  “I did no such thing.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “What?”

  “Lie. It doesn’t suit you.”

  Exhaling until my head feels like it’s gonna explode, I tell him, “I’m an only child, a native to Rhode Island, I’m a chef, which you already know. I love the outdoors. That’s pretty much it.”

  “Do your parents live here?”

  “My dad does, my mom passed a few years back.”

  He touches my knee and I’m still in awe at his ink. “I’m very sorry to hear that,” he says

  “Thanks. She had cancer, so it was rough. But I have a lot of great memories of her.”

  Which is the truth, but thinking of her struggling and fighting the way she did her last days, is still very upsetting. “Turn right up here.” I point ahead.

  “What made you decide to be a chef?”

  “I’ve loved to cook, since I was little. I grew up in the kitchen with my mom.”

  “That’s really cool.” Talking about her again and going back to those times hurts so I try to keep the conversation off of me. “What about you? What made you decide to be an architect?”

  “I’ve loved designing and pushing the limits of building my entire life. Doing something that others are afraid to. I guess it’s part of my DNA.”

  “Well, you are very good at it.”

  “See?” he grins from ear to ear, “You did look me up.”

  “Turn here.”

  He makes a sharp right at the entrance of the park and about a quarter of a mile down the road, we park. “Do you come here by yourself?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “It doesn’t seem safe.”

  “It’s fine, King. Come on.”

  He gets my bag out of the trunk and I put it on, making my way over to the trailhead. He’s close behind me as I begin to walk up. The woods are so pretty, the noises of the birds and wildlife surround us. He walks next to me, not saying much, which is not like him. “You okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah.”

  The incline quickly changes and we have to walk in line. I’m sure he’s loving my ass in his face though and I step my pace up, putting one foot in front of the next. “How long of a hike is it?”

  “It’s not too long. Are you tired already?”

  “No way.”

  “Okay.”

  “I mean dinner first would have been nice,” he sounds breathless.

  “You can have a protein bar once we reach High Rock.”

  “High Rock? You didn’t say we were rock climbing too.”

  I stop and turn around. He is so out of his element and we’ve barely begun this hike. “You are more than welcome to turn around and wait for me at the bottom.”

  “That’s not what I want.”

  “No?” I keep walking and holler back, bracing my hands on my knees as I dig my toes into the ground and push my way up the hill. He doesn’t respond and I glance over my shoulder at him. He’s almost on his hands and knees, breathing heavily, and as much as I want to laugh at him and bust his balls, I think something’s wrong.

  Sliding sideways down the hill to get to him, he stops heaving when I reach him and stands up. Struggling to breathe, he has his hands on his head and his face is all contorted. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not.” He’s gasping and I take the cord from my camel pack passing it to him so he can drink. He swallows mouthful after mouthful, then stands straight up. His hands are still on top of his head. “I should’ve told you…I have asthma.”

  “Yeah, you should’ve. Do you have an inhaler?”

  “At home.”

  “Why? You need to keep that shit with you.” He sits down resting his arms on his knees, and I do the same.

  “There’s that mouth of yours again.”

  I hit him on the shoulder and he rests his face on his arm watching me intently.“Why do you look at me like that?” I ask him.

  “I don’t know. Just thinking, I guess.”

  His breath must be coming back to him as his breathing is more even. “I guess I ruined the date?”

  “Not if you’re up for a little bit more?”

  “Sure, go easy on me though; no sprinting up the mountain again.”

  I nod and stand, reaching my hand out to him. He takes mine in his hold and stands next to me. Taking another drink of water, he gets unbelievably close
to my body as he gazes upon me. The tension is off the charts and I release his hand before I jump on top of him…right here and right now.

  “There’s another trail over here and the view is gorgeous.” We cut across the side of the mountain. I keep my paces slow and him at my side, ensuring he doesn’t have another asthma flare up.

  About a hundred yards up the trail is a rock. I hop up on it and he does the same. “Is this High Rock?”

  “No, that is.” I point to the top of the mountain and the tiny sliver of rock that sticks out the side of it.

  “You were gonna try and drag me up there, crazy ass?”

  “Well, you would have had to make it on your own, but the view is worth it.”

  “What’s wrong with this view?” he asks.

  “Nothing.” I look out and am reminded that the last time I sat on this very rock was with my mom, before she got diagnosed. Tears fill my eyes; the pain of wanting to go back to that day with her is so unbearable. At this stage in my life, I’d go back to any day with her that I could.

  “What’s wrong?” King asks me, and I shake my head. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close against his chest. I lean into him, letting the tears flow, letting the pain of the truth that I will never see my mother again reel out of me. King holds me close, not saying anything, and I’m sure he thinks I’m fuckin’ nuts.

  As the tears subside, I can’t look at him. I’m too embarrassed. We sit down together, enjoying the serenity. I’m not sure for how long neither of us speaks or moves. I revel in the security of his hold, and the beauty of this place that holds such a special place in my heart. King hasn’t let go of me while I’m lost in the tranquility of the spectacular views, and I’m pleasantly surprised I feel so comfortable in his arms, a feeling that I have longed for and never found...quite possibly…until now.

  _____

  “I never knew I could enjoy hiking so much,” King tells me as he drives me home.

  “Well, that’s because you never tried it.”

  “True, I’ll have to do it again.”

  “Take your inhaler though,” I tell him and he chuckles as his phone rings. He glances at the screen and says, “I’m so sorry, do you mind if I take this?”