I mean, Wyatt’s infidelity wasn’t a reflection on me, right? I shook my head as if to shake the thought away. I wasn’t going to be one of those women who blamed herself for her husband’s infidelity.
“I’m okay. This is just my version of alone time. You shouldn’t have come. I’m fine.”
He looked over his shoulder and leaned toward me, whispering, “There’s something else.”
I sat up and said, “What? What’s wrong?” I was concerned because Uncle Niko looked concerned. He never looked concerned.
“Wyatt called your grandmother today. I overheard them talking. Apparently, he’s selling the condo.”
“What?” I practically roared, jumping up from the bed. “That ass--”
“Hold it down. Hold it down,” Uncle Niko said, looking over his shoulder again, but it was too late.
I could hear Grandma making her way to the guest bedroom. A few seconds later, she peeked in.
“What’s with all the yelling?” she asked. Her blonde hair was completely white now and she wore glasses. She had a prominent nose and normally wore a serious expression. She didn’t smile a lot, but she wasn’t a bitter, humorless person. She just rarely smiled, so when she did smile it meant a lot. And besides that, she had a wicked sense of humor. She was my rock, always strong. Her expression never gave away what she was thinking. I was quick to anger and quick to speak, but she was always thoughtful and in control of her emotions. I envied her that.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” were the first words out of my mouth before I could even think.
She shot Uncle Niko a meaningful look and he shrugged. “I can’t keep a secret. I know, I know.”
“It’s not something you should worry about,” she said, looking back at me.
“Not something I should worry about? He’s selling your home!” I said a few choice words and my grandmother waited until I was done. For some reason, she didn’t mind me cursing around her, even though I’d never heard her use such language before.
“We’ll figure something out. I’ll get a job. Rent an apartment.”
“You’re old! That’s not going to happen!” I said, sounding panicked. Then I immediately felt bad. “Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Don’t be sorry. I am old, but there has to be something I can do.”
“Grandma, I admire your “can-do” spirit, but I’m 30 and unable to find a job because people think I’m old. I think at 80, it might prove a bit more challenging.”
“Nonsense,” she said, “I can still drive. I can be an Uber driver or something.”
Uncle Niko and I looked at each other. Living in New York City all her life, Grandma didn’t get a license until she was around 60. And honestly, being in the car with her was still kind of scary.
“Let’s wait on the whole job thing. I can’t believe this. How long do we have until her lousy ex sells this place?” Uncle Niko asked.
“He already sold it. He gave me until the end of the month to find someplace else,” Grandma answered.
My mouth was agape. “The end of the month!” I sputtered. “That’s in less than two weeks!”
The injustice and stress of the situation made my stomach turn. “I’m sorry, Grandma. This is all my fault.”
When I had relocated to Florida after college, my grandmother had already been here. She had grown tired of the New York winters and had moved to Florida shortly after I graduated from college. She had ended up renting a small condo in a very diverse, up-and-coming neighborhood. As a surprise, Wyatt had bought the condo from its owner and gifted it to my grandmother. I had thought he had done it because he adored her too, but he had explained to me how it was one of many properties he had invested in for a very healthy return. That was Wyatt…always practical.
So, for almost 6 years, I had been paying the basic bills my grandmother had like utilities and cable. I hadn’t thought about what would happen after I lost the business since I was so busy getting over the fact that he had betrayed me.
And apparently, he was betraying me again. More than betraying me. He was throwing an old woman out of her home.
“I’m going to talk to him. I’ll convince him to reconsider,” I said, feeling beyond guilty.
My grandmother shook her head and said with a steely voice, “No. We don’t need his charity. I never wanted to accept it anyway.”
She was right. She had at first refused to accept Wyatt’s gift, but I had insisted she take it. After all, Wyatt was family. But now Wyatt wasn’t family. Wyatt was a creep and now the magnitude of what he’d done made its way to my brain. The guilt from knowing my grandmother could be homeless all because of me was crushing.
I was normally too proud to beg, but my grandmother was reason enough for me to be willing to swallow my pride. I was seriously considering calling Wyatt and begging him to let Granny keep the condo.
Uncle Niko and Grandma left to go talk some more. I just sat there wondering what I should do next. I decided then to go for a drive, to clear my head. I didn’t even get out of the parking lot. I was so overwhelmed that I couldn’t even think straight. I felt like I was drowning and needed help. I couldn’t do this alone anymore. I needed my friends.
I pulled out my cell phone and called Lacey.
“Hey, you,” I said when she picked up.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so happy you called. I was just thinking about you! How are you?”
I sighed. “As good as can be expected.”
“I never really liked Wyatt,” Lacey said hotly. “Oliver feels the same way.”
I smiled to myself. Oliver was Lacey’s father-in-law. He doted on her like she was his own biological daughter. He was eccentric, an avid speed walker, and the most generous person I knew. He had formerly been her employer, but she had married his son under rather unconventional circumstances in Vegas. Safe to say, what happened in Vegas didn’t stay in Vegas.
“Oliver barely knew Wyatt,” I laughed.
“True, but he hated him instantly.”
“Tell her I hate him with the fire of a thousand suns!” I heard Oliver yell in the background.
“Um...tell him thank you, I guess?” I felt myself coming out of a fog for the first time in weeks. “Oliver’s great.”
And just like that, I was ready to talk. I started to unload on Lacey about Grandma and how she was going to lose her home.
After I finished, Lacey simply said, “I knew Wyatt wouldn’t exactly win a humanitarian of the year award since he abhors poor people and the elderly, but this is beyond spiteful even for him. This is such a heavy conversation. I think we should get Emmaline in on this. How about we all meet for dinner?”
I agreed and then lowered the sun visor to look at myself in the mirror. Yep, still hideous, I thought to myself, pushing it back up. I sighed and headed back into the condo to take a shower, brush my teeth, and at least try to be presentable.
A few hours later I found myself pulling up to the entrance of Oliver’s mansion. I parked my car and got out. Oliver didn’t permit cars on the property. Like I mentioned, he was an eccentric man. I saw Emmaline’s car as well. Great, all my pals are here, I thought to myself, already feeling better than I had in weeks.
I waved to Mr. Nguyen, his long-time guard, and he happily waved back as he opened the gate. I hiked up to the house, which sat about a quarter of a mile away from the road. As I headed up, I heard a noise. A motorcycle was heading in my direction. It zoomed by me, startling me, and I leaped back. So, motorcycles were okay, but not cars? Oliver was so random. As I set eyes on the mansion, I still felt the same awe as I did when I first saw it. It was a stunning work of art, an awe-inspiring estate. The architect had clearly put his heart and soul into it. But even though the mansion was intimidating on the outside and fit for a royal family, it felt like home because Oliver had always been so welcoming. In fact, when Lacey had mentioned dinner, Oliver had insisted that we meet up at his home and Lacey and I hadn’t felt any need to argue with him.
When I
finally arrived at the house I saw the motorcycle parked in front of it. Oliver stood in front of the grand entrance talking to the guy who I had seen earlier. He still held his helmet in his hand.
“There she is!” Oliver said upon seeing me.
I looked behind me and realized that he was talking about me. Why was he so excited to see me? He must have something up his sleeve, I thought, narrowing my eyes. Oliver was always full of surprises and I had no interest in being on the receiving end of one of them.
“Hi, Oliver.” He happily made his way to my side. He was wearing very brief, tight-fitting shorts and a mesh, muscle-tee. I had to bite my lip to not giggle. Oliver’s muscle mass was pretty nonexistent, so the muscle-tee was very baggy on him.
He offered me an arm and I looked up at the man who was waiting at the top of the steps for us. Whoever Oliver’s friend was...he was totally hot. With that thought in mind, I immediately missed a step and fell forward directly on top of Oliver.
I was mortified as the handsome stranger gracefully made his way down to us. Oliver and I were a tangle of arms and legs as we attempted to extract our limbs from under each other. The motorcycle guy extended a hand and tried to pull me up. I was afraid that all those hot dogs had added to my bulk. Not that I was fat, but I definitely could stand to lose about ten pounds...probably 15 now. After all, I had been spending the past few weeks just stuffing my face.
“Erik,” Oliver said, gasping for air as I attempted to crawl off of him. “This is the girl I wanted you to meet. This is Misha.”
The guy called Erik gave me a stiff polite smile and, with a little pull, completely pulled me off of Oliver’s body. It wasn’t until I was fully pulled up that I realized I had had my knee in Oliver’s belly. Poor guy.
“Thanks, Erik. I’m usually pretty graceful,” I lied.
“I’m sure you are.” His dark eyes were unsmiling and he seemed like he wanted to be anywhere else but there. It was impossible not to notice how attractive he was. In fact, he was probably the most attractive man I had ever seen in my life. He had dark brown eyes, full lips, and could easily have been a Hollywood actor stepping off a movie set. He looked French to me with his cool look. He wore a light tan colored shirt that fit tightly across his upper body. He was built like a swimmer, tall with long lean muscles in his arms but with a broad, heavily muscular chest. He was clearly in shape, I thought as I looked at his impossibly flat stomach, narrow waist and long legs, almost too muscular for his slim fitting pants.
“Misha, I was just telling Erik about your issue. And you guys might be the key to each other’s problems.”
“Excuse me?” I said, clearly not understanding.
“Your money problem.”
I blushed. Oliver was the worst! He knew nothing about what topics were socially inappropriate. Actually, he did know, he just didn’t care. “Did Lacey tell you everything?” Gosh, I hoped not.
“Of course, she did. Once she gets upset about something the whole household doesn’t hear the last of it.”
I groaned. And then I looked at Erik. “So, what’s your story?”
“My story is that I’m leaving now.”
I was taken aback by his abruptness. “Well, by all means, don’t let little old me stand in your way.”
He immediately looked contrite. “I apologize for my rudeness. I’d just rather not discuss my personal affairs with a stranger.”
“What personal affairs?” I asked, now more curious than I was before. What was Erik so against discussing with a stranger? And why had Oliver wanted me to meet him?
“Misha isn’t a stranger. She’s practically family,” Oliver said as he attempted to right himself. I offered a hand down and he took it.
“Nevertheless, Oliver, I would appreciate your discretion regarding the matter.”
Oliver shook his head. “I think you’re making a mistake. You should let me help you. I’m good at this!”
Good at what? I thought, even more intrigued.
Erik shrugged. “You have a right to your opinion, even if I don’t agree with it.” His tone was matter-of-fact.
“It was nice meeting you, Misha.” And with that he walked off. He got on the back of his motorcycle and drove off.
I immediately turned to Oliver, “What was that about?”
Oliver chewed his bottom lip as if trying to decide how much to not tell me. “I’ll get him to tell you later. Go on inside. I’ll join you soon,” he said ushering me in. “Lacey is probably worried you got lost in the bushes or something.”
His garden was like a labyrinth so getting lost in it wasn’t quite an exaggeration, but as I made my way to the door, I couldn’t help but wonder about the sexy guy now driving away on his motorcycle, as if the devil himself was after him.
3
I didn’t feel like celebrating. I felt like hiding under my pillows, but I had done that too much over the past few weeks. My savings were drying up and I just felt so lost. Grandma was staying with a friend and her stuff was all in storage until we figured out what to do next. Uncle Niko had headed back up to New York. I was all alone in my misery. I had considered bunking on Emmaline’s couch, but decided against it. Instead I was alternating between sleeping in the monstrosity that used to be Wyatt’s and my home and living in Oliver’s pool house, depending on the given night. Being in the house reminded me of my failed marriage and, per the divorce agreement, Wyatt got the house anyway. I was just buying time until he sold it from right under me like he had done with Grandma’s condo. I felt ridiculous, not knowing what to do next and at the mercy of my ex.
I felt as if my security blanket had been ripped right from underneath me and the world was again the hostile place I remembered it to be when I was 13. When I wasn’t hiding from my problems, I was on the internet. I had started applying to jobs and only received rejection letters thus far from the few interior design shops that were hiring. I could feel the weight of the world on my shoulders as I raised my hand to knock on the front door of Lacey and Jude’s loft. The doorbell had been broken for a while, but they were too cheap to get it fixed. They were billionaires, but too cheap to fix their doorbell. I guess that’s how billionaires stay billionaires, by spending as little as possible.
I heard someone opening the door and was surprised to see Emmaline standing there. She had beat me to the party. “Hi, stranger!” she said before embracing me tightly and I sighed against her shoulder and lightly hugged her back.
She pulled away and asked me, “Are you feeling okay? I’m sorry I haven’t had the chance to stop by to see you.”
“Don’t apologize. You have a life. A daughter. A husband. One friend going through a life crisis doesn’t need all your attention.”
“But still, I feel terrible. Are you doing any better?”
I lied. “Yes, a little.” I didn’t want her worrying about me. I was used to taking care of my friends and helping them get out of sticky situations, but for some reason I couldn’t ask them to do the same for me. It made me feel weak.
I knew I shouldn’t feel that way. They would do anything for me. Emmaline and Lacey had been my best friends since college. They had been two country girls and I had found them warm and authentic, a welcome difference from the girls we went to college with who had never left Manhattan. Emmaline had even gotten pregnant during college and had been ready to quit indefinitely, but I had arranged for her to stay with my grandmother who had become like a stand-in grandma for both my friends.
“What’s Granny going to do now? I heard about that jerk Wyatt selling her home.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. She’s staying with a friend in a senior community. It seems like she’s having a blast actually. They’re always out antiquing or exercising.”
“Well, you and Grandma are always welcome at my house.”
I knew she meant it, but I didn’t want to inconvenience her too. Oliver was already too kind for letting me stay in his pool house. It had been months since the day I found out W
yatt was cheating on me, but our divorce had only been finalized for a week at most.
The loft was one big open space. I passed by the table where we were about to have dinner and made my way to the kitchen to see if Lacey needed help.
As I looked around, I was surprised at how clean the loft was. Lacey complained on a daily basis that Jude was a bit of a slob. I guess she had made him clean up before the big party. There were even tiki lamps around which made me giggle. But there were no signs of dirty dishes, old socks, or pizza boxes, which Lacey said frequently appeared whenever she left Jude at home alone.
“Hey, Lacey,” I said as I spotted her in the kitchen.
“Hi! So glad you’re here,” she said, coming over to embrace me. They were the only people I readily hugged besides my grandmother. I didn’t come from an affectionate family.
“Can I help?”
She looked around and it really seemed like she had everything under control. I think she came to that same conclusion.
“Go ahead and sit down or mingle. I have everything ready.”
“You can take this, though.” She handed me green beans. I sat them on the table when the front door opened again. Knowing it was just Oliver, I ignored it and focused on helping with setting the plates up for dinner.
As I placed another plate on the table, I looked up and saw Emmaline open the door to Oliver and behind Oliver was Erik. I was surprised. I glanced down at his hand and noticed Erik wasn’t carrying his helmet today. That was too bad, I thought, it made him look extra sexy.
He made his way around the room talking with Emmaline and Colin. He even joked around with Lacey while I finished up some last-minute place settings.
I watched him watch me as he came around the table to the only available seat. And of course, we ended up sitting right next to each other.
Oliver started talking enthusiastically as he sat down across from me. “Misha, so glad that you’re here. I looked for you at the pool house to see if you wanted to ride with Erik and me. Anyway, so like I was saying the other day, Erik here needs a ----”
Dirty Cops Next Door Page 87
