Dear Neighbor

by River Laurent

  He looked at me curiously. “That’s intense. Why?”

  “I don’t know. I asked her once and she just said, ‘It’s your fortune. It’s my gift to you.’ It’s not even like it’s been in my family forever or anything. She bought this house with my grandfather’s life insurance and the savings he left her. She left only enough to make ends meet forever. She should have left this apartment to my Mom, but she didn’t want to.”

  I leaned against the piano, my chin in my hand.

  “Did she ever teach you to play that thing?” he asked, motioning to the piano.

  “She tried very hard but failed,” I grinned. “I’m tone deaf. I guess I learned a few songs, but nobody would ever mistake me for a concert pianist.”

  “Do you remember anything?” He stood, joining me there.

  “Maybe.”

  “Play me something. Please.”

  “No!” I waved him off.

  “Come on. Just one song.”

  “I’m out of practice.”

  “This isn’t a talent show. I just want to hear you play.” He sat beside me on the bench, and I wondered what it would be like to really go out with a man like him.

  “All right, but...” I turned around, trying to ignore the little thrill I felt at his nearness. “Do not, under penalty of death, laugh at me when I screw up.”

  “I won’t.” He looked amused.

  “Swear it.”

  “Oh, for fuck's sake. You want a blood oath?”

  I kept my expression straight.

  He chuckled. “Okay. I swear.”

  I cracked my knuckles, then wiggled my fingers. “Nothing like feeling put on the spot,” I muttered, before touching the keys. I thought about Chopsticks, but for some strange reason decided to go with my grandmother’s favorite. She was a massive Sinatra fan. I haven’t played this since she died.

  “Fly me to the moon,” I half-sang, half-whispered as I played slowly. Very slowly. My voice wasn’t much, but I could carry a tune. “And let me play among the stars…Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars…” I then hummed the rest as I played, concentrating on the keys instead of the lyrics as I fumbled my way through. I felt his eyes on me and struggled to focus regardless, even though color rushed to my cheeks, and I couldn’t wipe the nervous smile from my face.

  I stopped after the first verse. “It’s just the same thing over and over,” I mumbled, looking down at the keys.

  “I know. My mom’s a huge Sinatra fan.”

  “Really? And I just slaughtered that song.”

  “You didn’t. It was really nice.”

  “Nice is another word for not great,” I giggled, remembering his first visit to the apartment.

  “Not this time.”

  I lifted my eyes from the piano keys and dared a look at him. His smile was warm and genuine. If he only knew how close I was to throwing myself at him.

  “I’d better go,” he said, standing like the bench had suddenly caught fire.

  “Oh, do I smell?” I forced a tiny laugh, trying to cover up my crazy thoughts.

  “Not any more than usual,” he quipped with a wink. “I just remembered I have something to do early in the morning.”

  “What?”

  He chuckled. “I have a meeting, actually.”

  “You’re just going to look at pictures of baby goats on the Internet, aren’t you?”

  He gave me the side-eye. “You’re strange.”

  “You don’t like baby goats?”

  “They are almost as cute as you.”

  God, I so wanted this man. But no. I told Megan I wouldn’t, couldn’t. It would ruin everything if we slept together. I liked him as a person, which would have to be enough.

  I walked to the door and opened it for him. He lingered there for a moment, and I looked up at him in expectation. “I’m taller than you again,” he smiled. “I like it this way.”

  “Oh? Why? Do you like to feel bigger than a woman? Thinly-veiled misogyny, maybe?”

  He winced. “No. Because it’s easier for me to do this.” He touched the side of his finger to the underside of my chin and tilted it up, then bent slightly to kiss me. My heart skipped a beat as his lips moved slowly over mine. It was a simple, chaste kiss, but there was something so intensely sexy about it I had to hold onto the door for dear life or risk falling to the floor when my knees buckled.

  “We’re supposed to be friends,” I croaked.

  “I thought I should practice,” he murmured when it ended. “We have to put on a good show next weekend.”

  When we share a room, I thought, and as I did I realized, it was not horror I felt but anticipation.

  41

  Mimi

  Thursday was an odd day for me. Josh kept giving me strangely wounded looks which I completely ignored. I definitely did not want any office gossip to start now that our affair was actually over. Then Tracee came in for the first time since her brother’s death, but when I approached her she behaved as if the accident, or her calling me in the middle of the night had never happened. I backed off and let her get on with it.

  Everybody else was meeting at a cocktail bar downtown.

  “What about you, Mimi? You coming?” Josh asked.

  I shook my head and took great pleasure in saying truthfully, “Got a date with Max.”

  “Oh,” he said with a frown.

  I left work early and was home well before six. There were so many things I could have done with my time. I could have tossed out all the expired cans from my pantry—and there were more than I felt comfortable admitting to. I could have done laundry—or should have, really. I could have cleaned under my bed. I could have taken the leftovers out of the fridge. I could have even rested so that I would look my best when I went out with Max.

  Instead, I paced and tore my brain apart asking all sorts of questions. Why did he kiss me when he did? Why did he take all those opportunities to touch me—my back, my arm, my hand? Was it just to send a message to Josh and everybody else at the party?

  Or was it more?

  No matter why he’d done it, I couldn’t forget how it felt. Electric. It took my breath away. I felt like a little girl with her first crush. Only I wasn’t wearing braces and a training bra anymore. Even if I was still as big a dork as I was back then. Ugh, had I really played piano for him? Why didn’t I just throw in a few card tricks and show him my rock collection as well?

  But he’d asked, hadn’t he?

  Then I pictured the soft smile on his face and that almost awed look in his eyes and I became confused again.

  I opened the door to Max dressed in a black turtleneck sweater and black jeans. Even in a turtleneck, he looked good enough to eat. His gaze roamed over down to my flat ballet slippers, probably my most comfortable shoes besides my sneakers.

  “I see you meant what you said last night about going casual.”

  I motioned to his outfit. “You’re not exactly dressed for the Ritz yourself. Anyway, you said, you liked it when I’m shorter than you.”

  He grimaced. “If this is what a relationship with you is like, I might have to rethink it.”

  “Get used to it. You’re the one who got us into this.” I made a point of lingering behind him to get a look at his butt. Holy hell, he could wear a pair of jeans. I sketched a quick sign of the cross over myself before he could catch me.

  We ended up walking a few blocks to a pizza shop with a window that faced the street so customers could order outside or inside. It wasn’t too cold out, a good night for walking, so we decided to walk while we ate.

  “I can burn calories as I eat them,” I joked.

  “I told you, you don’t need to worry about that,” he said, biting into his large slice with extra cheese. A man after my own heart. I could never get enough cheese in my life.

  “I do. It’s all smoke and mirrors.” I grinned before taking a bite of my own slice. It was heaven on a paper plate and almost as big as my head. “I swear, in my next life I’
m gonna come back as a cheese shop owner.”

  He stops walking. “I’ve seen you naked.”

  I nearly choke and he has to bang me on my back.

  “Thanks,” I said with tears in my eyes.

  “You all right?”

  “I choked and nearly died. I wish you wouldn’t say things like that,” I grumbled.

  He smirked. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it. I’m a dick.”

  He wiped a little tomato sauce from his lips. I couldn’t help ogling. That man had lips to die for. We started walking again.

  “So is this more your speed?” he asked. “Just some pizza and a walk around town?”

  I shrugged. “I can go both ways.”

  “Provocative.” His eyebrows wiggled up and down.

  “You know what I mean. God, I have to think about everything I say just in case there’s a possible double entendre.”

  “I never said I had an elevated sense of humor.”

  “As I was trying to say before I was interrupted by childish humor,” I continued pointedly, “I like a nice night out as much as the next person, but I don’t need to go all out all the time. Sometimes a girl just wants to wear her flats and eat pizza. And it helps when she has good company.”

  “I’m flattered.”

  “I wasn’t talking about you.”

  “Of course not.”

  42

  Mimi

  He laughed and we went up and down the street for more than an hour, and I only realized after I got home later on that I never paid attention to exactly where we were. It didn’t matter. I was busy talking about my family, how Mom lived on Long Island and Dad had moved to Newark. Max had a million questions, which he chalked up to research.

  “I have to know about you,” he reminded me. “So we seem legit.”

  “Tell me more about you,” I suggested. “I’ve talked myself nearly hoarse.”

  He shrugged, his shoulders moving up and down under his clothes. “There’s not that much to tell. Besides the Fields already know everything they need to know about me and are hardly likely to quiz you about it.”

  “Oof. What a cop out.” I laughed.

  He looked offended. “It’s the truth.”

  “Liar. You live in a gorgeous apartment in an almost-empty floor. I told you why I haven’t left, or at least I think I alluded to it.”

  “Your grandmother.”

  “Correct. So, why are you still around?”

  He shrugged, looking at the ground. “It’s where I live. That’s all. I don’t want to leave.” I liked him even more for that.

  I smiled mistily at him. How I wished things were different. “It feels better, knowing I’m not alone. I’m not crazy for sticking around.”

  He looked into my eyes and shook his head. “No, you’re not crazy for sticking around. Not for that.”

  “You’re such a sweet talker. I’ll have to make sure everybody knows that when we’re in the Hamptons.” I put a hand over my heart, fluttering my eyelashes. “And when he told me I was crazy, Mr. Fields, I knew he was the one for me.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “And I’ll tell them I stay with you even though you’re crazy because I feel sorry for you and somebody needs to make sure you take your medicine and wear your panties on the inside of your clothes.”

  I laughed. “Thanks a lot.” I paused. “I know I never really told you this, but I’m really grateful to you.”

  “For what?”

  “For what you did on the street that day with Josh and Lillian. Not many guys would have done that. You’re one in a million, Max. You knew I was in trouble and you jumped in. Just like that.” I touched his arm. “I never thanked you properly for that. I wanted to hit you at the time, honestly. But I know it was because you felt sorry for me and wanted to help. So…thanks.”

  “No problem. And I didn’t do it because I felt sorry for you. Well, not entirely.” He started walking again, and I had no choice but to follow. Who wouldn’t?

  “Why, then?” I fell in step beside him.

  “Because I don’t like watching people getting picked on. Your face was as white as a sheet and you looked like you were looking for a way out. I just wanted to get you out of it. So I did.”

  Underneath his cocky arrogance, he was a sweet guy. “Isn’t it ironic then that all you ended up doing was putting me in a position where I was forced to go to their stupid party.”

  “Yeah, I should have stood there and let you tell them you were having your appendix out.”

  I giggled. “I don’t think that’s the sort of surgery you schedule in advance, but you’re on the right track.”

  “Come on.” He nudged me a little. “Don’t pretend you didn’t have a good time.”

  “It’s not on my Top Ten list of best times ever.” I was lying. I loved my night with him. Every minute of him pretending to be my adoring boyfriend. And when he kissed my forehead and told me I was the most beautiful woman in that room, he was treating me the way I had dreamed and hoped a man would. Everything he did that night was more than I ever got from Josh or any other man.

  “But you enjoyed it,” he insisted.

  “I enjoyed certain parts of it,” I conceded cautiously.

  “We got a weekend in the Hamptons out of it.”

  I snorted. “Don’t remind me!”

  “Life could be a hell of a lot worse,” he reminded. “A weekend in the Hamptons is hardly cause to throw yourself down a flight of stairs.”

  “Oh, damn. And I was gonna do that as an excuse to get out of it.”

  I had expected him to laugh, but he frowned, instead. “Am I really that repulsive to you?”

  “What kind of crazy talk is that?” I stopped. “I’m just messing with you, Max.”

  He stopped in front of me, hands in his pockets. I could tell I had upset him.

  I touched his arm. “Max, I really didn’t mean it that way.”

  “You have a way of making it sound like you’re horrified by the idea. I have to wonder why.”

  “Not because of you. Never because of you. I mean it. It’s because I’m not a good liar, and I would hate to be embarrassed. That’s all. I dread the way I know Lillian will look at us. She eyed you up pretty seriously at the party, by the way.”

  “Did she? I can’t imagine why considering who she’s engaged to.” He rolled his eyes. “Mr. Wonderful himself.”

  “For a man, you’re pretty catty, you know?”

  “He hurt you. Why would I like him?”

  The thing was, he looked sincere. Like he meant it. But why? He was the son of a rich man. A playboy who had the pick of any woman he wanted. I wasn’t anything special. Was it because I said no? What would happen if I said yes?

  “Trust me, it’s not you I’m worried about.” That was true. I was more afraid of myself. I couldn’t imagine sharing a bedroom with this man and not wanting to jump his bones.

  We kept walking, and he seemed satisfied if not happy with my explanation. “You know, she can’t hurt you, right?”

  “You didn’t read that email from her, Max. You don’t know how she really feels about me. Have you ever had somebody call you vile names?”

  “More like how many times have I heard it. Words are just words unless you believe them. You don’t believe them, do you?”

  “At the time? I don’t know. I might have.”

  Max slid an arm around me, and I welcomed the comfort. It felt nice. Very nice. “She seems like a real piece of work,” he mused. “And she just found out she was pregnant, so there’s that. She went nuts, but it’s not your fault. You didn’t set out to hurt anybody.”

  “I know that, but she doesn’t.”

  “That’s gotta be enough. It just has to. Sometimes we all do things without thinking about them because we have reasons that make sense to us, but we don’t think about the other person. We just make assumptions. Like she assumed you were out to take her man.” He made a face. “Although, I can’t imagine why anyone wou
ld.”

  I laughed. “Sorry. I hadn’t met you yet. I didn’t have you to compare him to.” I rolled my eyes.

  “I’m more than just a pretty face.”

  “No comment.” I blushed to the roots of my hair.

  “Watch out!” he exclaimed as he grabbed my arm as I stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk. He kept me from falling, but I turned my ankle and it hurt like a bitch. I laughed because I was embarrassed.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just incredibly clumsy.” But it did hurt. More than a little. I winced when I put weight on it.

  “Hell,” he cursed. “You might have sprained it.”

  “I don’t think it’s a sprain,” I said. “Just soreness.”

  He hailed a cab. “Come on. Time to get you home.”

  “Are you serious? I’m okay!” I wanted to die. I wanted to die right then and there. What a loser I was. A clumsy idiot. Give me stilettos and I could walk miles, but put me in a pair of flats and trust me to make a fool of myself.

  “You’re not okay. I’ll feel a lot better when you’re home with your ankle elevated. Besides, it’s getting late.”

  “Really. I’m fine. I’ll take care of it.”

  He looked me in the eye. “Why won’t you let me take care of you?”

  The question left me breathless. “All right,” I whispered.

  So he helped me into the cab and then up the steps to our building, my arm across his shoulders.

  “You’ll be okay if you keep it up tonight, with ice on it.”

  “If you say so, Doc.” I could kid all I wanted while he was helping me down the hall, but I couldn’t deny that it did hurt. Like hell. I just didn’t want him to know how dangerous I was to myself. It was too embarrassing.

  He didn’t seem to care as he sat me on the couch, put throw pillows under my sore ankle, then put together an ice pack for me.

  “Keep this on,” he ordered. “And don’t get up unless you absolutely need something.”