22
LUKE
A month. A month of Eleanor. The way I’ve wanted her from the beginning.
I have been on my best behavior. I’ve been a gentleman. And every time she’s tried to push me over the edge to go faster than I’d like, I’ve held firm.
It’s not that I don’t want to sleep with her. Of course, I do. But my father always told me when you know , you don’t rush things.
And I just know that what’s between Eleanor and me is more than her three months in Austin. Which is why, now that she only has a month left of her job, I’ve been on the hunt to find her an apartment so she can focus on the job search. She doesn’t know this, hasn’t asked me to do it, but I want to.
Because I need her here.
The museum hasn’t yet extended her contract, though they’ve happily taken her work to include in their exhibition. Jackasses. If they knew how she put her heart and soul into figuring out the truth behind that picture, surely, they’d reconsider.
Maybe they don’t care.
I’m scrolling through Zillow for the third time this morning. I’m in the office today, and I should be doing any number of tasks on my to-do lists. I’ve got a full inbox, a list of people I need to call, and the barrel of the shotgun that is Austin City Limits pointing right at my forehead.
Needless to say, Zillow shouldn’t be on that to-do list. However, it’s my priority.
I’m an inch away from calling her my girlfriend in every conversation I have about her. I want to shout it from the rooftops. But I know until her plans are settled, Eleanor is going to resist that shift.
“Moving?”
I jolt in my chair and spin around to find Randy hovering behind my desk. “Jesus, dude, you scared me.”
“Sorry,” he says, then takes a big bite of the banana he’s holding. “But are you moving?” he asks with a mouthful.
“No.” I own my place. It’s a bit out of the way. Market prices are hellish. When I bought, I thought it might settle me down. Three years at the house and it’s still barely decorated.
“Then why are you looking at apartments?” Randy asks.
I tap the arms of my chair. “Um . . .”
“Is it your girlfriend?”
“Not girlfriend. Not yet,” I say. This isn’t the first time Randy has caught me distracted on the job over something to do with Eleanor. On more than one occasion, he’s caught me smiling like a dope as I read a text from her.
Randy rolls his eyes. “Okay. Fine.”
There aren’t consequences for me being distracted, at least not in a managerial way. This is my business. What I say goes. But that also means when I’m not working, work doesn’t get done. My team needs me at my best. It’s still a grassroots effort every fucking day.
“Her contract is ending at the end of the month, which means she’s looking for a new job and a new apartment.”
“Mm. The double whammy.”
“Right.”
Randy polishes off the last of his banana and throws the peel in my wastebasket.
“Gross,” I say.
He gives me an impish grin. Love the guy and hate the guy. “Listen, my brother is a . . .” He looks both ways and tucks his hand over his mouth to whisper, “Landlord.”
“Are we not allowed to say land—"
“Uh bup bup!” Randy cries out before I can finish the word. “I don’t like to talk about it. I went the arts route, and he went the business route. We work through it.”
I furrow my brow. “Where are you going with this?”
“Well, he was complaining to me last night about how he’s just taken over an old property, and there are a couple of tenants still there so he can’t do a full gut and remodel. So, there are a few spots there.”
My heart flutters.
“A little out of the way, but you know, it’s got a roof and electricity and all that.”
Barebones. A little out of the way. But who cares. It’s an option.
“Basically, it’s gonna be pricier than it’s worth, but I know he just wants the units filled. If you tell him I sent you, you might be able to haggle.”
“Give me his number,” I say, too anxious to modulate the insistence in my voice.
The rest of my to-do list can wait. Keeping Eleanor in Austin is my priority. Plain and simple.
* * *
I pace the lobby of the Reeder Music Library. I’ve been here to pick Eleanor up from work many times over the past two months, but never have I been this anxious.
“You want to sit?” the young woman at the reception desk offers in a chipper voice, gesturing toward a wooden bench along the wall.
“I’m good,” I say.
She smiles haplessly. I can tell she’s worried I’m driving away customers, but it’s the middle of the day on a weekday, and the lobby is absolutely silent. “Eleanor is helping with the final touches on an exhibition; it might be a while until she can step away.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “I’ve got time.”
“I’ll try the archive extension again,” the woman says, lifting the phone to her ear.
“Please.”
She doesn’t get an answer. I’ve sent Eleanor a few text messages already. When I left the office, when I got in my car, and when I arrived here. She’ll know when she knows, and I’ll be here when she does.
A few minutes later, Eleanor emerges from the exhibition hall. I want to run to her with all my bursting excitement, but it’s her place of work, and I’ve already made enough of a scene. Plus, her forced smile and dull eyes give me pause.
“Luke, what are you doing here?” she asks, her phone in one hand, drawn up to our text conversation.
I close in on her so as not to be overheard. “Hey, I needed to talk to you about something.”
There’s obvious annoyance in her expression. “Now?”
“Yeah, it’s important,” I say. Randy’s brother gave me until the end of the day to accept the offer or else he’d be raising the price and putting it up for rent online tomorrow. It’s now or never.
Jolene appears behind Eleanor. “Well, hi, Luke,” she says with a smile.
“Hi, Jolene.” We’ve met a couple of times now through my visits to the archive.
“Jo, can I have a couple minutes?” Eleanor asks. I hope the edge in her voice will be alleviated once she knows why I’ve come.
“Of course, I’d never dream of keeping you from your cowboy,” Jolene teases.
Eleanor flushes cherry red. She’s so damned cute when she’s flustered.
“In fact, why don’t you go show him the exhibit? A sneak peek?”
With a large sigh, Eleanor agrees. As she leads me into the exhibition hall, I mouth a “thank you” to Jolene who gives me a big thumbs up. It’s always helpful to have an ally on the inside.
Eleanor leads me into a room off the main gallery. There are photographs lining the walls, memorabilia in cases, and music is already wafting through the speakers. A few other people work around the room, discussing things in hushed voices or carefully adhering lettering to walls, all of them blank except one at the very back.
I follow Eleanor in silence through the exhibition hall, not wanting to draw attention to us. We stop in front of the covered wall which I realize is a blown-up image of 6th Street, blurred and edited to serve as a backdrop to the other framed images and memorabilia.
“Is that . . .” I begin.
“Yeah, it’s mine,” she says with a proud smile, her arms crossing in front of her.
I can’t draw my eyes away from the photo.
“I took it the night we met. Cool, huh?”
I laugh in disbelief. “Cool? It’s beyond cool.”
Eleanor merely smiles.
I grab her by the shoulder and pull her to my side. “You’re way too humble, Nor.”
Her cheeks turn red. She pulls off her glasses and distracts herself polishing them with the front of her shirt. “Would have been better if I’d found the original photo of Diane. Could have used her recordings and everything.” She gestures with her glasses, across the room, then sticks them back on her nose. “There’s a Skip Baxter portrait over there that I took, though.”
“You took it?!”
“Oh, yeah, I tracked him down for the radio section. We didn’t have any new portraits of him on file. There are also a couple pictures of The Lone Star through the years that I worked on restoring.”
I shove my hands in my pockets. “I had no idea this is what you’ve been working on.”
“I thought it would be a big surprise once it all was finished. You know, I’d have this awesome exhibit and the museum would love me so much they’d want to keep me, and—” she stops short of finishing her sentence. “They’re not going to.”
The record scratches. “What?”
“Jolene told me today. They can’t afford to keep me on in the archive,” she says. “They love the display though, so that’s good.” Her smile is conciliatory at best.
No wonder she looked so dower when I first saw her. “Nor, I’m so sorry,” I say.
“It’s okay. I assumed by this point.”
But I know she hoped. With all her heart. I did too. A reason to stay would have made this all so much easier.
“What do you need to talk to me about?” Eleanor prods.
“Right, right, well . . . bad news, good news, I guess.” I ruffle my hand through my hair. “I have an apartment for you.”
Eleanor’s head whips toward me in shock. “What?”
“I found a lead on an apartment and, if you want it, it’s yours.”
Eleanor blinks her big amber eyes, the news still sinking in.
“It’s, um, a bit of a fixer upper from what I hear, but I got a deal because I know the guy who owns it.” A loose interpretation, but true enough. “And if you want it, it’s yours.”
She remains silent. I shove my hands in my pockets. I didn’t know what kind of reaction I expected, but after the month we’ve had, I thought there would be some semblance of excitement even if the fear is present.
“I probably should have asked you first if that’s what you wanted, but I know you’ve been busy with work and I . . .” For a tall guy, I feel so small right now.
Eleanor shakes off her silence with a flick of her head. “No, that was really nice of you, Luke.”
I can practically see the wall she’s just put up between us. “You’re not planning on staying, are you?”
Her lips twist to the side. “I was going to tell you tonight. I don’t know how I can without a job.”
“You can find a job.”
She shrugs. “Maybe.”
The defeat in her body is so unlike her. I am used to an Eleanor who pushes to the extreme, pounds the pavement until she gets what she wants. The one who follows dead end after dead end. “Nor . . .”
“Look, I really need to get back to work. Can we talk later?” she says.
“I’ve got a show tonight.”
Her head ticks with the memory, curl falling out of place onto her forehead. “Right, I forgot. Tomorrow then.” She forces a smile before turning on her heel and heading out of the exhibit.
I follow her, walking in exact step beside her. “Let me walk with you.”
“Luke, could we not do this here?” she asks.
It’s not fair to her, but I can’t just let this go until tomorrow. Hell, even until tonight. “You love it here.”
“I do.”
We emerge from the exhibition hall, back into the main lobby. The woman at the reception desk watches us intently as we cross toward a door that requires keycard entry. “So why not stay? It’s not like you have a job anywhere else.”
“I know more people in Chicago. My network is bigger.”
It’s a knife to the chest that I know she didn’t intend, but hurts, nonetheless. “You have a network here.”
Eleanor scans her badge and opens the door. “I have you,” she says with half a laugh. “And Jolene I guess, but that fell through.”
“Is that not good enough?” My annoyance comes through despite my best intentions.
Her eyes avoid mine. “That’s not what I was trying to say.”
I follow her through the door and down the staircase. The air is so cold it bites at my skin. “You’d be making a mistake deciding to leave now.”
“I have to get back to work,” she says, hurrying down the stairs.
“Hey.” I reach out and grab her arm. “Just stop for a second.”
Eleanor whips around, yanking her arm out of my grip. “Don’t grab me.”
I swallow. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I just . . . please listen for a second.”
“I have been listening and I told you—” Her eyes waver across my face. “I need to go back to work.”
“Then you’re not hearing me. Nor, hear me.” I delicately place my hands on her shoulders and smooth them down her arms, thankful she’s not drawing away. “You should stay. I want you to stay.”
Eleanor’s eyes flutter shut. “ Luke . . .”
“Don’t you want to stay? And see what happens?” I told her a month ago that we’d enjoy each other to the fullest. For now. Until she had to decide. But I didn’t want her to make up her mind like this. “With us?”
Eleanor’s head drops forward. “Yes, but it’s not that simple.”
For me, it’s simple. For me, it’s her. She’s all I want. It’s so crystal clear to me. But it’s not for her. And telling her would terrify her even more, I’m sure. “You have until the end of the day to get the apartment,” I say. “Then the deal’s off. So, if you change your mind, you have to let me know. Soon.” My desperate expression reflects off her glasses.
Eleanor nods. “Okay.”
I’m not sure if I’ve just been broken up with, but lord help me if I’m going to give in so easily. “It’s going to be okay. Whatever it is, okay?”
She nods again.
Though my heart’s starting to crack, I pull her into my arms and hug her tight, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.
She grips the front of my shirt, presses her face into my chest. How can someone hold me like this and not want to stay?
If I’m here any longer, I’m going to cry. I release her. “I’ll send you the guy’s phone number. You can call him if you think you want to stay. Promise me you’ll think about it, Nor.”
“I will,” she says in a slight voice. “Promise.” She steps away and then stops. “Thank you for looking out for me.”
“Of course.”
Her purses her lips. That’s the face of a woman who knows she’s breaking a heart. At least it looks like it hurts her too. “I just need to think about it.”
“I get it, Nor. It’s okay.”
The walk up the stairs, out of the museum, and back to my car is as close to a zombie as I’ll get. I don’t know what more I could have done to do right by her. Other than being fully honest about Diane. Maybe if I’d been upfront, she’d have something for the museum right when she got there and could have been in their graces in a flash. Maybe they would find the money to keep her.
But would I have known her the way I do now if I’d been honest?
Did I doom us from the start?