The Tenant (18 page)

“Not as horrible as your crappy married sex-life’s going to be.”

“Thanks for the support, li’l sis.”

“Anytime.”

Amanda had just ended the call when her phone rang again. ‘Baby’ appeared on the screen. She glanced at the clock hanging at the far wall. Mason had to be getting off work about now. She kept her fingers crossed he wouldn’t want to see her. She wouldn’t be the most pleasant company, and he deserved better.

“Hey, you,” she said with as much tenderness as she could muster.

“Hey, babe. I’m leaving the office now and was wondering if you felt like doing something.” There was something about his tone that she’d never heard from him before. It was playful, yes, but also… Was he trying to sound
sultry
?

Derek’s bedroom eyes flashed before her, and Amanda had to fight the impulse to hang up on her fiancé. “What did you have in mind?” she asked.

“Matt’s left, and I was thinking…since I have the place all to myself again…”

“Yes?” She drew the word out. He couldn’t be saying what she thought he was.

“Maybe you could spend the night.”

“You mean, like a sleepover?”

He huffed. “I was thinking something more involved.”

What the hell? “Are you saying you want us to have sex?”

Another huff. Had his mannerisms always grated on her nerves? “Way to kill the excitement of anticipation, Mandi. Yes, I mean maybe we could have sex. It’s what you wanted, right?”

Well, the tense he’d used was right. The rest inexplicably wasn’t. “Why now? We’ve talked about it before—I’ve asked you to, before—and you were set on waiting.”

“Seeing you with that guy made me think. For a second, until I realized he wasn’t interested, I thought I’d lost you. I don’t want to lose you, Mandi. Not over something so stupid. We’re gonna do it anyway. It may as well be now. I want us to have sex. I want to give you what you need. I want to make you mine forever and to begin our forever tonight.”

No. No nononono. She’d wanted to hear these words for so long, and now they sounded wrong. So wrong.

The words weren’t what was wrong
.

She shook her head, barely aware her eyes were brimming with tears. “I can’t,” she said.

“How about tomorrow? We can go out for dinner then come to my place for dessert.”

He was so sweet, but she simply couldn’t commit to it. Ironic, considering she’d made a commitment to marry him. “I can’t tomorrow either. It’s…a bad time.” It was impossible for her to be more specific than that.

“Ah, I see. Woman stuff.”

He definitely didn’t see, but Amanda didn’t correct him. Mason hated talking about what he called her ‘woman stuff.’ Topics in that category varied from shoes to her time of the month, so he was sure to drop the subject and not pressure her for details.

Because she apparently didn’t want to sleep with him now.

“Maybe next week?” he asked.

“That’s a definite maybe.” Her relieved little laugh was cut short.

Relief she’d gotten a week’s reprieve from having to sleep with her fiancé was not a good thing.

Amanda tossed and turned in bed for hours, trying to make sense of everything that had changed between her and Mason and trying to figure out how she felt about what had remained the same.

•●•

Wednesday, May 7
th
2014

When the doorbell rang at seven in the morning, she felt tired and had a burgeoning headache. She waited under the covers, hoping Derek would get it, but the ringing sounded a second time. The apartment was quiet. Maybe he was out, apartment hunting.She threw on her robe and dragged her feet to the door. The peephole revealed three men, holding buckets of paint, rolls, and brushes. She opened the door and looked at them questioningly. “Hello?”

The guy looked at her like she was an idiot. “We’re here to paint the apartment.”

What was the date? “Today? But we’d scheduled this for next week. I’m expecting people to set up the kitchen today.”

“Your husband called and rescheduled, ma’am.”

Her husband? It had to be Derek! She didn’t know how, but she was sure he’d messed this up for her. Biting down on her fury, she kept her voice level. “The silly man didn’t let me know. Give me two minutes to call the kitchen crew and see if they can come in next week?”

She hadn’t finished her sentence when the elevator doors slid open, and four men laden with boxes and tools walked out. One of them looked up and saw her apartment number. “Ms. Murphy? We’re here for the kitchen.”

Of course they were.

Amanda ushered them in and turned to the painters. “Could you maybe come back next week? Like we’d originally agreed?”

“Are you joking, lady? We had to rearrange something else to make it today, but your husband said it was important.”

She’d kill Derek when he came back. “When’s your next opening?” she asked.

“Month from Monday.”

That would be too late. “But we have to have it painted next week. Are you sure there’s no way you can make it?” She batted her eyelashes, but the man she now thought of as Chief Painter seemed unimpressed.

“I guess you’ll have to find someone else then. We’ll need to be paid for our time, of course.”

“Of course.” Derek was a dead man.

She paid the painters and spent the rest of the morning overseeing the kitchen crew as they took down the old cabinets and counters and fitted her new, awesome bench tops. By the time they were done, her kitchen looked perfect—if dirty—and she was no longer livid.

“You said you don’t need our help with the new appliances?” one of the men asked, indicating the boxes at the far end of the living room.

“Nah, we’re sticking with the existing ones for a while longer. Thank you so much, though. I didn’t expect you to do it all today.”

“Pleasure, ma’am. Let me plug your fridge back in, and we’re done.”

Huh. The fridge was unplugged and full of Derek’s stuff. She didn’t mind if her juice and milk went bad, but she bet her pain of a tenant had strong feelings about his stinky expensive cheese. “Don’t worry about that,” she said. “I’ll do it after I vacuum.”

That’d teach the jerk not to offer her some of his pasta
and
to mess up her schedule.

She set about dusting and vacuuming and only stopped when she’d worked up a good sweat and the kitchen and living room were spotless. It felt good getting things done.

A few more days, and her life would be back on track.

And she would hopefully want to sleep with Mason.

Thursday, May 8th 2014

Derek wished he hadn’t run into her, but if wishes were horses…

“You’re moving out?” Amanda managed to sound both happy and sad. What was it with her and mixed signals?

Or maybe her signals weren’t mixed at all, and he was fucked up. Maybe he got everything wrong, and the frown creasing her forehead was one of joy?

“Not yet, Princess. Getting there, though, so don’t worry.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” Just like he didn’t have to want to kiss her when she gave him that petulant pout. He supposed some things were beyond his control.

“So…”

“I’m flying to New York for a couple days.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You can have an early taste of what finally having me out of your way will feel like.”

“Are you looking for places there?” She looked pained, but he didn’t bother trying to figure that out any more than he bothered explaining.

“Talk when I get back,” he said, already out the door. “Cab’s waiting.” He was a liar. There was plenty of time, but seeing her in her PJs drove him mad with desire. That she looked irresistible even in flannel was inexplicable.

He didn’t put his jacket on as he waited for the taxi. The morning air helped cool him down.

He lit a cigarette and pulled hard on it, enjoying his first nicotine shot of the day. The street was mostly empty, with the early birds already at their jobs and the rest of the residents not out and about yet. Between that and the fog spreading its tendrils across the sky, he was reasonably sure nobody would start yelling at him for polluting the environment.

He’d been smoking less around the apartment, and sort of liked not being out of breath when he took the stairs, but wasn’t entirely ready to quit it. Smoking cleared his head, and he needed his head to be clear when he saw his parents. He needed to have a long, detailed conversation with them, and he had to keep it free of emotion.

He would hate it if his father agreed to help him out of pity or the mistaken belief he owed it to Derek to bail him out. His family had done nothing but support him, always, and Derek didn’t want to take advantage of that. He needed to make a new beginning, yes, but he wouldn’t accept help from anyone unless that help could be handsomely rewarded.

He just hoped the numbers he’d been crunching for two days didn’t lie, and that he’d be able to pay his father—his investor—back within the timeframe he’d set for himself.

A cab stopped at the curb, and the driver waved Derek over. Grumbling, Derek put out his smoke and rushed to cover the twenty feet distance. The driver was typing furiously on his phone, so Derek signaled for him to pop the trunk and put his suitcase in before jumping in the back seat.

As the taxi moved down Oak Street, Derek let his mind wander through the possible outcomes of visiting his family. By the time they pulled up at SFO, he’d built up a headache that didn’t budge one bit during the nearly six-hour flight to JFK.

•●•

“The hell, man, haven’t you been eating at all?” Tanya squeezed the breath out of Derek, who returned her hug to a less bone-crushing degree. “You’re skin and bones!”

“Look who’s talking! You’ve practically shrunk since I last saw you. In fact, are you…?” He flattened his open palm on the top of his sister’s head. “Yup, you’re shorter. What have you done to yourself?”

“Ass.” But she was smiling, and so was his father who, having already greeted Derek, stood aside and let the siblings enjoy their reunion.

“Shall we? Your mom’s waiting, and you know she hates to wait when the table’s set.”