by Tabatha Kiss
I blink. “You took care of it?”
Nora smiles and speaks slower. “You’re taking me to dinner instead.”
“No, you’re taking you to dinner. This is like giving a kid a twenty and letting him hand it to the cashier. It’s your money — and why the roof?”
Her smile doesn’t fade. “You’ll see.” She takes one last look in the mirror. Stunning perfection. “Four o’clock. Don’t be late. Want some coffee?”
I stumble over my tongue. “Sure.”
I listen to the determined tap of her shoes, easily picturing the exact way she walks through the condo. Wide, confident strides. Head up, shoulders down, with murder in her eyes.
Something isn’t right here.
But it doesn’t feel all that wrong, either.
* * *
I knew my answer the second the job offer fell from her mouth. Long before I had the chance to grab that harddrive and take off. Long before I sat down in this old, damn car and drove out here to the gym.
A salaried position at Little Black Book isn’t something anyone turns down, homeless or otherwise. I could work normal hours. Take nights off for something — anything — else. I could have hobbies. A life.
A life with Nora Payne.
That doesn’t sound all that bad.
I walk through the gym, scanning the faces for Alex. A few regulars notice me and acknowledge me with a head nod and I do the same.
Strange. This might be the last time I do that.
I hear him before I see him. He’s chatting up some woman who clearly just wants to use the treadmill in peace.
“Alex,” I say.
He twists around and smiles at me. I wave him over, gesturing for him to follow me into the locker room — and leave the poor girl alone. He’s not supposed to stop and talk to the customers in his jumpsuit anyway.
I wait in a quiet corner among the lockers. Private but not too private. I don’t think he’ll react to this very well.
Alex springs into the room with a mop and bucket. He rolls it in my direction and raises his lip at my suit and tie. “Hey, Mr. Fancy Pants. I didn’t think you worked here today.”
“I don’t.”
He wrings out the mop and plops it on the floor. “Come for a run? Because I must request you do it somewhere away from the redhead out there,” he jokes. “If she sees you, she’ll never look at me again.”
“Listen, Alex,” I say, keeping an even tone. “We need to talk.”
He barely looks up from his mop. “About what?”
“This job. I can’t do it anymore.”
He snorts. “It’s just cleaning toilets, man.”
“You know what I mean.”
His head finally rises. “You don’t mean the job job, right? Not that job?”
I nod. “That job.”
Alex tosses the mop back into the bucket. “What do you mean you can’t do it? Just swipe the damn thing while she’s sleeping. Easy peasy.”
“I can’t,” I say again.
His brow furrows in confusion for a moment before shifting to a frown. “Oh, this isn’t can’t, is it? This is won’t.”
“She’s a good girl,” I argue.
“She’s a what?”
“I mean, she’s a good person,” I correct myself. “And she doesn’t deserve this.”
“What the fuck do you care about some rich bitch?” he asks, growing furious. “She’ll manage. Meanwhile, poor, hardworking men like you and me get shit on. It’s time for us to get ours, Clive.”
I shake my head. “Not like this.”
He fumes. “What the hell’s gotten into you?”
“Look, I’m sorry, all right,” I say. “But I have to think ahead here and do the right thing.”
“The right thing?” he repeats. “The right thing for who? For you? For her? Sure as shit ain’t the right thing for me, man. What about me? I’m the one playing footsie with a bunch of criminals who would rather slit my throat than forget about this. While you, what? Fuck some hot chick? Is this cunt really worth throwing away a friendship for?”
I roll my fists. “You’re out of line, Alex.”
“No, you’re out of line!” He points at me. “I’m not about to let five million dollars slip through the cracks because your dick had an attack of conscience.”
I blink. “Five million?”
His face turns white. “No, not five, I meant—”
“You told me the deal was for two million. Remember?” I point between us. “One for you. One for me.”
“It was! I mean, it is, I just got confused,” he stutters.
He looks down, lying through his fucking teeth.
“You were going to stiff me out of my cut, weren’t you?” I ask. “You were going to hand over one million and pocket the other four.”
He wags his head. “No, no. I wasn’t—”
“Yes, you were.” My guts churn. “This was never about making it up to me, was it? You wanted a payday and you used me to get into Black Book because you couldn’t get in yourself.”
He twitches. “Clive, I—”
“You know what, Alex?” I flex my jaw. “I forgive you.”
He looks up. “What?”
“I forgive you,” I repeat. “I forgive you for losing your fucking shit in Iraq. I forgive you for nearly shooting my goddamn leg off. I forgive you for setting me up and trying to steal one-point-five million dollars from me—”
“Clive, come on, we can still split it. Two-point-five for you. Two-point-five for me.”
I bear my teeth. “I forgive you, Alex. Now, get out of my life. If I ever see you again, I will kill you myself. Do you understand?”
He recoils and drops his head again. “Wait. Clive—”
I ignore him.
Hell, I forget he even exists by the time I step outside.
* * *
Four o’clock. Don’t be late.
I board the elevator at three fifty-five, feeling more than a little uneasy. And excited. But mostly uneasy. I have no idea what’s going to happen when I reach the roof. I can’t remember the last time something like this happened to me.
Yes, I can. Never. It’s never happened to me.
The elevator opens on the top floor and I spot a door down the hall marked roof. My heart pounds harder with each step I take toward it. Just one quick flight upward and I reach the roof access door.
I open it and my skin chills, instantly touched by the thin, cold air up here.
“You’re late.”
I smile. “No, I’m not.”
Nora smirks at me from the center of the helicopter pad. My eyes bounce between her, the amazing view from the top of Chicago, and — of course — the giant fucking helicopter parked behind her.
I walk up to her and the amusement deepens on her face. “What is this?” I ask her.
“Our ride to the airport,” she answers. “The restaurant is a little outside of town.”
My guts churn. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in one of these. “How far outside of town?” I ask.
Nora smiles.
Thirty-One
Clive
New York City. That’s how far outside of town.
I stare out the window of our hotel suite, trading one brilliant skyline for another, wondering whose life I’m living right now. It’s not mine, that’s for sure. This suit that just happened to be here for me to change into when we got here isn’t mine, either. These shiny shoes. That chilled bottle of champagne on the cart by the door. I don’t own a single damn thing in this room.
“Are you lost, honey?”
I follow Nora’s voice behind me. She stands in the bathroom doorway in midnight blue cocktail dress and a black clutch purse. Her hair is up, perfectly-styled off the neck to give that collar its time to shine.
“What?” I ask.
“That’s what Judy said to me my first night at Red Brick,” she says, smiling.
I chuckle at the window. “Yeah, I might be.”
/>
She wanders up behind me and wraps her arms around my waist. “Soak it in, Clive. It’s gonna be a good night,” she says.
Her hands fall away. I try and do just that. Let it all soak in. But a resistance keeps me from putting both feet on the ground.
Something about the look in her eyes. Like she knows how out of my element I am here. The fancy clothes, the new shoes. She’s dangling this life in front of my face like a shiny object.
Like a distraction from the hell I usually live in.
“Ready to head upstairs?” she asks.
I look at her and nod.
The hotel restaurant sits on the very top floor. We ride the elevator up and the doors open on a few dozen tables and a three-sixty view of Manhattan.
“Good evening, Ms. Payne,” the hostess greets as we step off. “Your table is ready.”
Nora smiles at her. “Thank you.”
She takes my hand and we follow through the restaurant to the opposite corner.
The hostess sits us down with a wine list and two glasses of water. “Your server will be with you soon. Enjoy the views,” she says.
I sit quietly, almost afraid to touch anything. This chair alone probably costs more than my car is worth.
“So, what do you think?” Nora asks me.
“Uhh…” I laugh. “Kind of blank up here right now.”
She takes a sip of her water. “I know what you mean.”
“Do you?”
“Of course. I wasn’t born wealthy.”
I nod. “Right.”
Nora takes a moment to look out the windows herself. “So, have you considered my job offer?” she asks, her eyes reflecting candlelight.
“I have,” I say slowly.
She waits for an answer, her head tilted in suspense.
“And…” I wet my dry lips. “I’m leaning toward a yes.”
“Leaning?” she asks.
“Leaning,” I repeat.
“Anything I can say to tip you over?”
I laugh but it fades quickly. “Why are we really here, Nor?” I ask.
She adjusts her hands in her lap. “Because I wanted to spend time with you,” she answers. “We can’t do that publicly outside of the club and coffee shops just yet, so...”
“So, you figured… New York City?”
She shrugs, chuckling lightly. “Why not?”
“Feels…” My voice falls.
“Feels like what?”
“Like I’m a dirty, little secret.”
She smiles. “You are. Is that so bad?”
“You sure there’s nothing else? No other reason why you would splurge like this?”
Her brow furrows. “What else is there?”
I study her bright face. For the slightest second, her eyes twitch with nerves. “You know, don’t you?” I ask.
“Know what?”
“Come on, Nora.” I shift in my chair. “The hints about hooking up at my place? Sneaking extra money into my account? Offering me a permanent job that you know I’m in no way qualified for?”
She looks down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just thought it’d be fun to—”
“I’m homeless,” I say. “I’m a poor, homeless soldier that you feel sorry for.”
Her mouth sags open. “No, Clive. That’s not—”
“How did you know?” I ask.
She hesitates, pressing her red lips together before speaking. “A friend told me,” she answers.
“What friend?”
“Melanie Rose.”
I nod. “Of course.”
“I dropped your name at brunch and she said she knew you from an interview you gave her…”
“Christ…” I sigh.
“She still had her notes on all the things you told her, including how you were living out of your car at the time and I saw that your car still had signs of living in it and I just—”
“When did you see my car?” I interrupt.
She winces. “Ah, jeez.”
“When, Nora?” I ask again.
“Sunday,” she says. “At the gym you work at.”
“How did you know what gym I worked at?”
She deflates. “I kind of… feroed yue,” she mumbles.
I lean forward. “You what?”
“I followed you,” she says again, her face full of shame.
“You followed me?”
“We saw you at the laundromat,” she admits. “I didn’t want to follow you. I said it was wrong but Trix and Melanie were gonna do it anyway so I tagged along and I waited for you to go inside before checking your car and—” She exhales hard. “Are you mad?”
“No, just very…” I shake my head at the table. “Actually, yeah. Maybe a little. I don’t know. I’m embarrassed, that’s for sure. Mad might sneak in later.”
“But you don’t have to be!” she says. “It doesn’t matter to me. Really.”
“It matters to me,” I say. “Nora, it matters to me.”
“Okay, but…”
She shrinks in her chair, looking even smaller than she usually does.
“Nora, I don’t think you realize how intimidating you are,” I say. “I mean, Jesus, you’re the wealthiest woman in Chicago.”
“Well… not technically,” she says, raising a finger. “Wealthiest woman under thirty, sure, or I was last year… but that’s not important! It’s not! I don’t care about money.”
“Spoken like someone who has it,” I bite.
“Oh, come on, Clive. Don’t be like that.”
“How am I supposed to be?” I ask. “Reverse this. Imagine being in my shoes right now. How would you feel if I tripled your pay and literally flew you across state lines to some flashy place just to impress you after I gossiped about your private business behind your back with my friends?”
“I’d…” Her face wrinkles. “I’d be pretty pissed off.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And embarrassed and insulted.” She hangs her head, briefly touching her cheeks. “God, Clive. I’m sorry.”
What the hell was I thinking? I knew this would happen from the start. I knew that once she knew who I really was things would change between us.
“Honestly, Nora,” I say, forcing the words to come out. “I think we should think twice about this.”
Nora looks up. “Think twice about what?”
“About…” I gesture between us. “Us. You and me.”
“I made an awkward judgment call,” she says. “Let’s not jump onto the first knee-jerk reaction.”
“This isn’t a knee-jerk reaction,” I argue. “This is about fundamental lifestyle differences.”
Her eyes narrow. “Lifestyle differences?”
“You have every opportunity, Nora. You deserve a man with just as much influence and ability to provide—”
“So, a woman’s not allowed to date beneath her tax bracket?” she asks.
“I… didn’t say that.”
Her eyes flare up. “No, that’s exactly what you’re saying. I’m a rich girl. You’re a poor boy. Kate and Leo covered this already. We don’t have to sneak below deck for third class dance parties anymore.”
I set my hands on the table. “What can I possibly give you that you don’t already have? Or that you can’t just go out and buy?”
“Clive…” She exhales. “Clive, you own something no amount of money could ever buy.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
She tilts her head, the answer so painfully obvious. “Me,” she says.
I look at the pearl hanging from her neck. “It’s just plastic,” I say.
“I don’t care.”
“But you will,” I claim. “Someday. You will.”
She extends her hand across the table and lays it down with her palm up.
“I feel safe with you,” she says. “I don’t care about money, and yes, it’s because I have it and I’ll probably never want for it again, but that doesn’t fulfill me.”
I s
igh. “Nora…”
“I was a barren shell until you held me and asked me if I was okay. Now, I’m prepared to do the same for you.” She heaves a frustrated breath. “And dammit, I don’t care if you think it’s charity because — fuck it — it is. Life wasn’t fair to you, I can change that, and I won’t take no for an answer.”
I lean away from her open hand. “Nora—”
“I love you, Clive.”
My heart stops in my chest. “You what?”
She furrows her brow. “I think…”
“You think?”
“I don’t know. It just came out.”
“It just came out?”
Nora lays her hand over her heart. “I think I forgot to breathe again…” She fills her lungs to the top. “Yep. Seeing spots now.”
I rise halfway out of my chair. “Nora, are you—”
She holds up a hand. “It’s fine. I’m cool. Let’s just move on.”
I stay put, hovering and ready to stand. “Are you sure?”
“Salmon.”
I blink. “What?”
She picks up a menu. “Feeling salmon tonight. Do you like salmon—?”
“Nora.” I sit down. “Do you love me?”
“Maybe go for the classic steak and potatoes. The meat here is so soft, you can cut it with a spoon—”
I snatch the menu out of her hand. “Nora, do you love me?” I ask again.
“Oh, you heard that?” she squeaks.
I let out a laugh. “Yes. I did.”
She looks down. “Well, I just…” She pokes her inner cheek with her tongue and taps her nail against the bottom of her water glass. “I mean…”
I shake my head. Tense and speechless Nora Payne…
“I love you, too,” I say.
Nora stares at her hands for so long, I think that maybe she didn’t hear it. Finally, her head turns up and she looks across the table at me.
“You do?” she asks.
I nod. “Yes.”
She doesn’t move. Even her eyes stay fixed in their sockets.
“Breathe,” I remind her.
She inhales deep. Her cheeks flush and her lips twitch as she pushes the air out again. She bites her lip and nods over and over until she gets up the nerve to look at me again with those big, glistening eyes.
“I love you,” she says again.
I extend my hand across the table and lay it open with my palm up. She takes it and I hold it until her fingers stop shaking.
