The Arrogant Architect (5 page)

I can’t help but look at Ross differently now that I’m aware
he and Mistee slept together, and watching the way they interact makes me think
that maybe they are still fucking. As they run the front line together, they
are so chummy, shoulder-to-shoulder.

But I’m sure it’s only me overanalyzing things as I try to
grasp at strings and not focus on the fact that I have three days left before I
have to leave my apartment. Imagining walking away from my home makes me so sad
that my throat tightens.

Keeping my eyes down as I work in the back of the line like
a peasant, I pray that there will be another way…there has to be. I haven’t
heard from King or Charlie, so who knows at this rate. I decided to not ask
King for help, I don’t want to owe him anything. If I am meant to move, then
that will be my destiny and I’ll accept it.

“Here are some more boxes for you, Ever,” Trent says as he
comes into the kitchen.

“Thanks.” He sets them by the back door and I know there
isn’t much longer left of my shift.

“I need a seared salmon fillet.”

“Yes, Chef,” I call out to Mistee and prepare the fish as
she has requested.

Finishing up the last few items, we do a shift swap and I
grab my boxes and bolt. Loading them into my trunk, Mistee runs out and stops
me before I can get into my car. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m stressed about the move…that’s all.”

“You can come and crash at my place,” she offers.

“Thanks,” I tell her.“I mean it.”

“I appreciate it, I might take you up on it.”

“Listen, I’m sorry about the whole Ross thing.”

“It’s cool,” I brush it off, not wanting to talk about
things at all.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I mean you’re a grown woman, you can make your own
decisions.”

“Thanks. Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I kinda like him.”

“Really?” I ask scrunching my eyebrows together and I close
my trunk.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Let’s give it another week.” I tell her and walk to the
driver’s side. “Have a good night.”

“Oh, come on,” she whines as I slam my door and then back
away, leaving her standing in the middle of the parking lot. I’m aware of how
Mistee is with her short ass attention span. Next week, it’ll be another guy.

God, I need a fucking drink. I can’t deal with her or anyone
for that fact right now. It’s been a long day, I haven’t slept for shit, and
I’m about to end up being forced to move back home with my dad who I’m sure
still cries himself to sleep every night even six years later. I don’t even
want to imagine the hours I’ll be trapped on the fucking freeway.

I get home and notice right away that King’s car is not
outside. He hasn’t been at the project for days– not that I’m keeping track,
but I totally find myself doing so and I have no clue why. Grabbing my boxes, I
haul them upstairs and crack a beer. I power up my laptop and search Craigslist
for any new rentals that are in my price range, hoping…praying that there is at
least one. I’ve also gone around to all the nearby apartment buildings that I
can afford and put my name on the waiting list, so I’m still holding out hope
there. I mean…I have to find something and fast.

Getting lost in searching again, the same way I have been
for days, I pray my mom is looking down on me and that she will not let me end
up in a bad situation. I hold onto that hope as I persevere, not giving up, the
way she raised me.

_____

I tossed and turned all night, another terrible night’s
sleep. The sun is beginning to light the sky and I’m thinking– or more like
hoping–an early morning run might jump start my day and help to clear my mind.
Dragging my tired ass out of bed, I pull my hair up into a ponytail and brush
my teeth, get dressed, then trudge to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

Scooping out the grinds, there is a knock on the door. I
answer it automatically, and am surprised when I see King, immediately followed
by aggravation. I slam the door in his face, but he stops the door with his
hand, and says, “Oh good, you’re up.” And walks right on in like he owns the
place.

“Sure, just come right in,” I tell him and yawn, struggling
to make the coffee, feeling all the fight go out of me as I concentrate on
getting caffeinated.

“Why, thank you,” he says and closes the door behind him. I
glare at him over my shoulder as I press the “on” button. His wide eyes are so
fresh and awake as he undresses me from behind. “Should I get naked, or are you
really going to stare at me like you can see through my clothes?”

“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.

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 that 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?”

“Not at all.”

“Hey, Galinda, is everything okay?” I look out the window
having that awkward feeling inside my stomach where I’m trying not to listen to
him, but it’s so hard not to. “Okay.” He squints his eyes and looks at the
clock on his dash. “Sure. I’ll handle it, don’t worry. See you soon. Love you
too. Bye.”

He hangs up and turns to me. “Sorry about that.”

“That’s all right, everything okay?”

“Yeah, for sure. That was my aunt; she forgot to get her
medication when she was out today and now she’s had three glasses of wine,
yada, yada, yada.”

“I didn’t think you had any family here.”

“Why would you think that? You never asked me.” I smirk,
giving him a half cocked smile and he says, “Ahhh, our friends at Google or was
it Wikipedia?”

“Both,” I respond ashamed and put my face in my hands.

“Well, now you’re honest. Do you wanna meet her?”

“No, that’s not part of the deal.”

“And neither was hiking or me almost dying on the side of
the mountain.”

Suddenly, he turns down an unfamiliar street and parks on
the side. “I’ve gotta pick this up for her, do you need anything?”

“A shot of anything would be great.”

He touches my cheek with the back of his knuckles, igniting
my insides. I never thought I’d like his hands on me…but after tonight, I
really do. He gets out of the car and I rest my head back, watching him walk
into the old-fashioned pharmacy, dressed in gray shorts and a white t-shirt. He
really is hot, so fucking sexy.