Terms of Agreement

5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Aiden

W hat just happened?

Did Charlotte Hall just try to kiss me?

No. No, of course not.

It sure looked like she was about to…

Stop. Don’t even go there. It’s never going to happen!

We barely know each other.

She smelled really good, though…

A vibration from my pocket pulled my attention away from thoughts of jasmine and orange and I looked at the screen.

‘What?’ I growled.

‘Well.’ My sister’s voice chimed down the line, ‘Hello to you too!’

‘Sorry,’ I muttered, hanging my coat up on the rack and stepping out of my boots. ‘It’s been a long day.’

‘Tell me about it.’ Louise sighed like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. At twenty-two, the idea made me smile.

‘So,’ I said, heading towards the kitchen and putting the phone on speaker. I set it down on the countertop and headed off to the double-door refrigerator in search of food. ‘What do you want?’

‘Jeez,’ Louise grumbled. ‘I just wanted to say “hi.”’

‘To say “hi?”’ I paused, the disbelief thick in my voice.

‘Yes!’

‘Well, hi,’ I chuckled, pulling out a tray of chicken breasts I’d left marinating overnight and turning towards the stove.

‘See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?’

I grunted in response, not even trying to fight my smile.

‘Anyway,’ she continued. ‘How are things… How’s work?’

How’s work? I narrowed my eyes at my phone, leaning back against the countertop and crossing my legs at the ankles. ‘What do you want, Louise?’

‘Wh—Nothing!’ She sounded affronted, and I’d put good money on the fact that she was pacing whatever room she was in, outraged by my assumption. ‘Why would you assume I’d only call if I wanted something?’

‘Because,’ I drawled, ‘I know you.’

There’s a brief pause and then, ‘Ugh, fine, I was wondering if I could come crash with you for a few weeks in November.’ Frowning, I turned the oven on and set it to grill. ‘Jas’s family is coming over and I told her they could use my room.’

‘Why would you do that?’

‘Because that way they could spend more time together,’ she replied, her tone failing to conceal the implicit duh in her statement.

‘Well, now you’re homeless,’ I pointed out. Duh.

‘Well, I won’t be if my favourite brother lets me crash in his spare room.’

‘I’m your only brother, Lou.’ I don’t know why I bothered dragging this out. We both knew where this was headed.

‘So… yes?’

‘Fine.’ I frowned at the uncooked chicken. If it weren’t for that ‘quirky’ elevator, I’d have eaten by now. But then I wouldn’t have been able to spend time with Charlotte… I frowned at the thought, a whisper that curled up from the depths of my subconscious.

‘Yay! Okay awesome, I’ll let Jas know,’ Louise rambled on excitedly.

‘Sure.’ Silence clogged the line. Sighing, I reached up to push a hand through my hair, scratching at my scalp. I used to be better at this. ‘Plans for the weekend?’

‘I’m with Mum and Dad this weekend,’ Louise answered matter-of-factly. ‘For Pippa’s birthday.’

‘Oh yeah, tell her “Happy Birthday” from me.’ Pippa was the younger sister of one of my closest friends and she and Louise had spent most of their summer holidays trying and, more often than not, succeeding to gate-crash any of our plans.

‘You could tell her yourself,’ Louise pointed out. ‘You know they’d love to see you.’

I grimaced, trying to recall the last time I’d been home. ‘I’ll see them at the wedding.’

‘Yeah, okay,’ she said, defeated.

‘What?’ I asked, rinsing a head of broccoli under the open tap.

‘Nothing,’ Louise hesitated. ‘I just worry about you sometimes.’

‘Don’t,’ I chuckled. ‘I’m the eldest. That’s my job.’

‘If you say so,’ she trailed off, sounding unconvinced.

‘I do,’ I said firmly.

‘Alright,’ she paused and then, ‘I’ll see you soon?’ Her hopeful tone twisted at something in my gut and I cleared my throat, pushing past the guilt that had clogged it to reply.

‘Sure, Lou. I’ll see you soon.’

***

The technicians had had to replace the elevator’s motor, and, despite the electronic grumblings of our building manager, the whole thing took no more than a few days. A few days and I’d not thought about Charlotte and the events of Friday night at all. Well. Not much.

I couldn’t wait to get home. We’d had a new starter and, as was standard practice, everyone was in the office to welcome them to the team. She seemed competent and was young enough to still be eager about things like our software and work perks. She’d all but squealed when Alfie, the team lead, had shown her Jira, the platform we used to track our ongoing projects. That was when I’d excused myself to one of the meeting rooms to take a client call.

I sighed, thumbing the button to the second floor and sending up a silent prayer to the Universe that the elevator’s new motor had overridden some of its other quirks.

The compartment bobbed, coming to a stop on the first floor, its doors sliding open—guess not. My stomach let out a loud grumble of protest and the doors slid shut. I patted down the churning hunger in my stomach. More than ready for dinner. When the doors slid open for the second floor, I pushed myself off from where I’d been leaning against the wall and ambled out of the lift and towards the door, eyes trailed on the floor in front of me.

‘Aiden!’

I bit down on a groan of frustration.

‘Hello!’ The voice grew closer, the speaker refusing to be ignored. It wasn’t long before I felt a firm tap on my shoulder blade.

‘Hello, Ms Au,’ I replied, bowing my head with ingrained politeness. Two years of grunted responses and shrugged off platitudes and my neighbours were now about as interested in me as I’d ever been in them. All except for the tiny Cantonese woman who stood beaming up at me.

‘I’m so glad I caught you,’ Ms Au said.

‘Oh? And why’s that?’ I asked, turning away from her and busying myself with searching my pockets for my keys. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Ms Au, not really, but I just couldn’t tell if she was truly happy to see me, or if her attentions were only directed at me because I was the only other Asian in the building, and seeing as how I’d never given my elderly neighbour a reason to be happy to see me… I’d guess it was some false sense of cultural camaraderie that made her more inclined to seek me out.

‘You need to go to Charlotte’s,’ Ms Au said, her typically genial voice replaced by one she wielded with parental authority.

‘I—’ My hand was halfway to the door before my brain registered what she had said. ‘What?’

‘You need to go to Charlotte’s,’ she repeated. She wasn’t even looking at me, too preoccupied with loading herself up with tote-bags to see my incredulous expression.

‘Why?’

‘Because,’ she huffed, hoisting the last bag to her small shoulders, ‘you need to give Oscar his medicine.’ Oscar? Did Charlotte have a kid? ‘I usually do it when Charlotte is out late, but I can’t tonight,’ Ms Au continued, looking down at her laden frame as if that much were obvious.

I blinked, baffled and confused. ‘Oscar?’ How could she trust a stranger with her child? Although maybe Ms Au wasn’t a stranger to Charlotte like she was to me.

‘Yes, Oscar,’ Ms Au nods, turning away from him to pull her front door shut. ‘He’s diabetic.’

Her kid was sick, and she’d left him alone? Charlotte didn’t look like the kind of person who would leave a kid alone at home. I frowned, suddenly relieved that nothing had happened last Friday night. Not that I had anything against kids… or single mothers… but that was a level of complicated that I just wasn’t interested in. Not that I’d been interested in Charlotte—

‘Aiden,’ Ms Au’s sharp tone cut through my righteous reverie.

‘Listen, I don’t think—’

‘ Leng zai , it’s not a big deal.’ Ms Au interrupted, patting my arm as best she could while still balancing her heavy load. ‘There are instructions on the fridge on how to give him his medicine—as if I’d forget,’ Ms Au muttered under her breath. ‘I’ve been doing this since she first brought that beast home.’

Beast? My eyes widened as I stared down at my neighbour, taking in her appearance. Dressed in her standard uniform of black trousers, a turtleneck, and gimlet, she looked so wholesome. Sure, she was annoying, but only in that overly-familiar way that distant relations often are. But even the most problematic of my relations would never stoop so low as to call a child a beast.

‘Scruffy looking thing, don’t let him trick you into feeding him.’

‘Ms Au…’ I tried to interrupt, but she continued, talking over me.

‘Here are the keys—take them,’ she admonished, prying open my hand with surprisingly strong fingers. ‘The vet’s number is on the fridge and I’ll send you Charlotte’s number so you have them both in case of emergencies.’ The vet? ‘But I need to go now,’ she nodded in my direction and slipped each of her thumbs under the straps on her shoulders, ‘Lawrence is sick.’

‘Ms Au,’ I called after her, ‘who is Oscar?’

She stopped to look at me, her brows furrowed as if my question confused her.

‘Charlotte’s cat,’ she answered, shaking her head at my slowness.

Her cat?

My mouth opened and closed, an awkward silence echoing down the corridor, broken only by the ping of the elevator when it arrived on our floor.

‘Ms Au—’ I called, taking a step in her direction, but she just smiled, stepping back into the compartment and waved as the doors slid shut.

I looked down at the keys in my hand. What the hell just happened?

***

Staring down at the food on my plate, I pulled out my phone and pulled up a search for diabetes in cats. I knew nothing about cats, or about pets in general, but I’d never heard of one having diabetes. Maybe this was all just a joke? Some weirdly elaborate plot exacted by my neighbours as revenge for all the times I’d refused to accept their deliveries. That had to be it. I nodded to myself, scooping up some rice, the tension in my shoulders easing as I took a hungry bite.

Mid-way through dinner, my phone flashed with an email notification. Taking a sip of water, I unlocked my screen only to find my search history staring up at me. My search history with numerous articles confirming that yes, cats could be diabetic. I swallowed thickly, opening the first article and scrolling down to the sub-heading for ‘treatment.’

Ideally, injections should be spaced 12 hours apart.

Fuck.

My eyes shot to the time in the upper corner. When did Charlotte give him his medication? I pushed my chair back from the table, my eyes darting around the room in search of her keys. Fuck. What if I was too late? What if Charlotte’s cat died because I thought it was a joke? Where the fuck was my phone? I patted my pockets, turning back towards the table and the plate of unfinished food. No phone.

I’d just decided to give up and go without the phone when I glanced down at the keys in my hand. The keys that were pressed up against my still active phone screen. Seriously? With a loud groan of frustration, I bundled the keys and my phone into my trouser pockets and headed towards the door.