8.
Ada
I arrived at Jonathan’s building a couple minutes early and had to park outside because it was secured by gates that required an entry code. There was no sign of Jonathan, but a minute later, my phone pinged. His name displayed on the screen since I’d saved his number after he’d called me yesterday.
Jonathan: Gate code is 90831.
What the hell? Could he see me? I peered up at the top of the building at an apartment with floor to ceiling windows. Was he standing up there looking down? Something about that made me shiver.
I drove slowly to the gate, lowered my window and keyed in the code. It opened, and I drove through, quickly finding a free parking spot. I was relieved that it was dark and there were no other residents around. I imagined I’d receive a few snooty looks during the light of day from Jonathan’s neighbours, especially given the age of my car and the fact it was packed with my possessions.
Opening the boot, I grabbed a bag with enough for an overnight stay, deciding I’d wait until tomorrow to bring everything else up. After five nights of questionable sleep, I didn’t have the energy to carry more than one item.
As I approached the entrance lobby, I startled. Jonathan was already standing by the door, watching me. He opened it and motioned me through.
“Miss Rose, good evening. Please come in.”
“Thank you,” I said as he held the door open then ushered me over to the middle-aged man sitting at the security desk. It was so weird how polite he was being.
“Larry, this is Ada Rose. She’s going to be staying in apartment 804.”
“Hello, pleased to meet you,” Larry said, dipping his head to me in greeting.
“Hi. Likewise.”
“Come on. I’ll show you upstairs,” Jonathan went on, his hand moving lightly to the small of my back as he guided me to a bank of elevators. As one opened and we stepped inside, I moved away from him, mainly because his touch was making my pulse spike in a strange way. I felt his gaze on my profile as we rose up the floors, but I kept my eyes glued to the doors. As soon as they opened, I shot out and found myself in a spacious hallway at the end of which there were two charcoal grey doors. One was numbered 803 and the other 804. The doors faced each other, so if Jonathan or I were ever leaving at the same time, there was no chance of not bumping into him.
“This is … fancy,” I said as Jonathan stepped past me to unlock 804.
“You haven’t even seen inside yet,” he replied with the ghost of a smile, and he was right. As soon as I stepped into the empty penthouse, I realised just how much fancier things were about to get. It looked brand new. Every item of furniture down to the light fixtures on the walls screamed money, and I was instantly ill at ease. I couldn’t live in a place like this. It was so far outside my comfort zone I didn’t know where to start. I was going to be constantly worried about damaging or breaking things.
“How come it’s furnished if you don’t live here?”
Jonathan shrugged. “I hired an interior designer for my place, and she offered to furnish this apartment at a discount, so I went for it. If I ever want to sell, it’ll need to be staged anyway, so this way, it’s already done.”
“Staged?” I asked, unfamiliar with the term.
“It’s what estate agents do with high-ticket properties. They rent out furniture and then take photographs to upload for potential buyers to view. Furniture helps people imagine living in a place better than if they’re just looking at empty rooms.”
“Ah, I see,” I said, once again aware of the different worlds we lived in. I didn’t think I’d ever not feel like an imposter in this place. Still, it was far superior to going back downstairs to my car. And judging from what I’d seen so far, the bedroom was going to be just as luxurious as the rest of the apartment. I could do with a little luxury after the last few days.
“Is everything okay?” Jonathan questioned when he turned and saw me white knuckling the edge of the kitchen counter.
I swallowed thickly. “Yes, I just … are you sure I shouldn’t just go stay in your mother’s house instead? This place is so … not me.”
Jonathan’s expression shifted, turning inward. “No. I already told you I don’t want anyone in Mam’s house. Her passing is too recent, and I’m—”
“Please, you don’t have to explain. I get it. I just want to make sure my presence here won’t cause any trouble. Your neighbours might turn their noses up when they see the riff raff coming and going,” I said, trying for some humour because mentioning his mother’s house had strung Jonathan tight as a bow.
“You’re not riff raff, Miss Rose—”
“You should call me Ada,” I interrupted. “There’s no need to be so formal.”
Some of his tension seeped away. “Fine, Ada ,” he said, and something about the way his voice caressed my name had the hairs on the back of my neck tingling. “If anyone in this building gives you trouble, you let me know. They’ll rue the day, I promise you.”
Wow, okay, the way he was looking at me was kind of intense. My neck tingles increased.
I was struck with the urge to ask him once again why he was suddenly being so nice to me, but he’d already explained why. I guessed his urge to have me close was grief related and not entirely rational. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but I did feel a little less alone knowing I wasn’t the only one in mourning.
“Well,” Jonathan said, clearing his throat. “Let me show you the rest of the place.”
“Sure.”
Five minutes later, he’d finished giving me a tour of the entire penthouse, and I was particularly taken with the palatial balcony that looked out over a nearby park. It was stunning, and I decided I wasn’t going to be all weird and uncomfortable with how fancy it was. I was simply going to enjoy living there for as long as it lasted. I certainly wasn’t likely to find myself in a similar situation again.
“Right, I think that’s everything,” he said as he led me back to the entryway then slid his hand in his pocket to remove a set of keys. He took two steps toward me until there were only a few inches between us. I wasn’t sure what was happening until he lifted my hand and placed the keys directly in my palm. His touch sent an electrical surge through my body. Oh, this was bad. Very bad. Jonathan’s fingers softly brushed my palm, and my heart skipped a beat.
“These are yours,” he said, a hint of gravel in his voice. “If you have any issues, please call me. And if you can’t get through to me, contact Therese, and she’ll have me call you back.” His touch fell away, and it was confusing how ferociously I missed it. My attraction to him was something I was definitely going to have to get a handle on. Jonathan had invited me to live there because of my connection to his mother. That was all.
He paused then turned back to survey me. “Oh, all your stuff is still in your car. If you want to give me the key, I’ll have Larry help me bring everything up.”
“No!” I was quick to decline. I definitely didn’t want Jonathan and Larry surveying my meagre belongings, especially since one bag was full of dirty laundry that probably stank to high heaven. “That’s not necessary. I can manage it on my own.”
Jonathan didn’t look too convinced, his eyes going to my cane.
“I’ll do it tomorrow after I’ve had a night’s rest,” I went on, hoping he’d drop the matter, but he continued scrutinising me with those glacial blue eyes, which, for some reason, had me blurting, “Jonathan, I’ve been living in that car for five days. I do not want you, or Larry for that matter, going through my stuff. It’s not … sanitary.”
His expression hardened, and I thought he was going to argue further, but instead, he rumbled, “ Five days ?”
“You knew this already,” I muttered, shifting my weight on the cane.
“Right, but I’d hoped maybe you’d slept in your office or something.” He looked perturbed.
“Well, I couldn’t do that. There are staff working night shifts. They would’ve noticed.”
“It was incredibly dangerous,” he fumed. “Have you any idea what might have happened if the wrong person found you?”
“I’m well aware of the danger, but I didn’t have another choice.”
“Of course, you did. I offered for you to stay in Mam’s at the funeral if you recall?”
“Right, but you wanted seven hundred a month, and I couldn’t …” My words fell off, my cheeks aflame. “I couldn’t afford it,” I finished at last.
Jonathan scrutinized me once again. “But you have a good job. Surely, you could afford—”
“I have too much debt, okay? Now, can we drop this? You already know far more about me than most. Hell, you currently know more than my own sister does, and I usually tell her everything.”
“Debt? What kind of debt? Is it drugs? Gambling?” Jonathan questioned, looking at me in that hard, judgmental way he had the first time I’d visited his office. Of course, his mind went straight to illegal or irresponsible activities. I shouldn’t have been surprised. He might’ve been making an effort to help me, but it appeared he was still judging me based on the sort of family he thought I came from.
“Of course, it isn’t drugs, and I’ve never placed a bet in my life. It’s medical debt, if you must know. As you’re aware, I have some issues with my leg, and I had to travel abroad for surgery a few years ago. I’m still paying off the cost of it, which is why my finances are so dire right now.”
Jonathan stepped back a little, shaking his head at himself before his gaze found mine again. A long, awkward pause elapsed. His handsome features were etched in apology. “Forgive me. I have a tendency to jump to the worst conclusions about people sometimes. It’s a bad habit. I shouldn’t have assumed—”
“It’s fine. You have a right to be suspicious. You hardly know me.”
His eyes held mine. “You still deserve the benefit of the doubt.” He fell quiet, his attention going to my leg before he asked, “What exactly is the nature of the injury?”
I bristled, hating to talk about the accident, but refusing would just make him more curious, and there were aspects of what had happened I’d rather not get into. “I was hit by a car. It happened in a very isolated, rural area, and nobody found me for almost a full day. There were broken bones but also a lot of nerve damage, and the fact that it wasn’t tended to for that long made recovery more difficult. It caused me pain for a lot of years until I finally had this new surgery, which made things much better. Sleeping in my car obviously caused it to flare up, but hopefully, with a few good nights of rest, I’ll be back to normal.”
“Nobody found you for an entire day? So, the driver just left you there?”
Pain sliced down my middle. “I’d rather not get into that. It was awful, but it was a long time ago.”
“No, I understand.” Jonathan’s throat bobbed as he studied me. “I’ll, um, I’ll let you get some rest, then.”
He turned to leave, and for some reason, I found myself reaching out and grabbing his arm. “Thank you for letting me stay here. It’s … you’ve done a good thing.”
Jonathan held my gaze for a prolonged moment before he nodded. “Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t seen the state of my apartment, and you’re going to be the one cleaning it.”
I could tell by his tone he was joking. I’d bet his apartment was just as pristine as the one we were standing in. Men like Jonathan Oaks didn’t live in squalor.
“Right,” I gave a small laugh. “Goodnight, Jonathan.”
“’Night, Ada,” he replied, and once again, the way he said my name caused a little flutter in my belly.
It took a few days to get used to my new surroundings. I developed a bit of a love/hate relationship with Jonathan’s apartment. I enjoyed the space and the comfort of living there, not to mention the pretty view from the balcony where I liked to sit in the evenings and enjoy a book and a cup of hot chocolate. What I didn’t like was how quiet it was. Being all alone had always been uncomfortable for me. Because of the accident, one of my biggest fears was having some medical emergency and not being found for days. That was why I liked living with others. I was a dichotomy because I liked being left to do my own thing, but I didn’t want to be completely on my own .
I wanted to know that someone was downstairs or in the next room. Someone who would come to my aid if I was hurt. Now, I solely occupied a giant apartment, and if anything happened to me, it could be days before anyone noticed. Well, people at work might wonder at my absence, but Jonathan certainly wasn’t going to think to check on me.
The building was too well sound-proofed for me to ever hear him coming or going. I hadn’t seen him in over a week. Not that I was complaining. The less time I spent with Leonora’s son, the better. I felt too exposed around him. He knew far more about me than I typically showed people, even my own sister.
The problem was, I hadn’t found the courage to explain to Frances that I’d lied to her and was now living in Jonathan’s penthouse. I didn’t want to see her sad eyes when she found out I’d slept in my car. And that meant I had to get accustomed to my new living situation without anyone to confide in. I was also going through some weird emotional stuff, finding myself brought to tears by the simplest things.
Like the other day, they ran out of coconut milk at my favourite coffee place, and I’d been looking forward to a coconut latte all week. When the barista informed me of the shortage, I found myself on the verge of bawling my eyes out.
I was obviously missing Dad and Leonora, and it was getting to be too much.
The smallest inconvenience could trigger a meltdown.
I wanted them back so much it physically hurt. I needed them there to check in on me, ask me how my day had been and what I thought we should make for dinner. And my dad’s hugs. He used to give the best hugs. It was the little things that I felt the absence of most keenly.
It all came to a head on Saturday night, close to the end of my second week living next door to Jonathan. My dire loneliness and anxiety had me leaving my apartment, walking across the hall and knocking on his door. He hadn’t come to tell me which days he wanted me to clean his place yet, so I came under the guise of agreeing on a schedule. However, I had an additional request, and I wasn’t sure how he was going to react.
I knocked three times then waited, not hearing any movement until some shoes clipped towards the door. It wasn’t until the very last moment I realised they sounded like women’s shoes. High heels, to be precise. At that point, it was too late to flee because the door was opening, and a very attractive woman appeared. She had long, silky chestnut hair and hazel eyes and wore a form-fitting red dress that matched her lipstick. I was currently decked out in a long fluffy cardigan, black leggings and a yellow T-shirt from last year’s fundraiser bake sale at work that read Buns of Fun . Jackie and Philomena had come up with the name and had a good giggle about it.
So, yes, I was standing in front of a beauty queen wearing a shirt that read Buns of Fun . A new low point, for sure.
“Hi, um, is Jonathan around?” I asked while the beauty queen smiled at me warily, like I was some crazy woman off the street who’d broken into the building.
“And you are?”
“I live next door,” I threw my thumb over my shoulder. “Just wanted a quick word, but if he’s too busy—”
“Lissa, who is it?” came Jonathan’s familiar cadence, and I stiffened, wishing I’d never left my apartment. Jonathan wore a dark blue shirt and grey slacks. It was slightly less formal than his typical suit and tie, and I got the sense they were about to go on a date, or maybe they were having dinner in the apartment. Either way, I was interrupting.
“Oh, Ada, hello. Is everything all right?”
I chewed my lip. “Yes, everything’s fine. I was hoping to have a quick word, but it looks like you’re busy, so I can come back another time.”
“No, it’s fine. We can talk.” He glanced at Lissa. “I’ll just be a minute.” The woman, who appeared to be in her mid-thirties, if I had to guess, glanced from Jonathan to me then gave a vaguely put-out nod.
“Okay, but our reservation is in twenty minutes, so we have to leave soon.”
“We will. I won’t be long.”
With that, she left, and Jonathan stepped out into the hallway, closing his apartment door, which I was grateful for since I didn’t need Lissa earwigging on the pathetic conversation that was about to ensue. I was internally deliberating on whether I should just ask about the cleaning schedule and leave it at that. No need to humiliate myself in front of this man any more than I already had.
“So, you haven’t gotten back to me about the cleaning. I work Monday to Friday, but I can spare a few hours on the weekend. If you typically go out on Saturday nights, that might work. In fact, I can start now if you and your girlfriend are going to dinner.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Jonathan said, and I blinked. Well, okay, then. He rubbed his jaw. “This is our third date. I met her on an app.”
“Oh, well, she seems very nice. So, about the cleaning—”
“You can’t do Saturday nights,” Jonathan argued. “Then you’ll never get a chance to go out yourself, and I wouldn’t want your social life to suffer.”
He looked so serious, and I just about managed to hold in a chuckle. Sure, I had a social life, but not the kind that took place on Saturday nights. My social calendar consisted of bi-monthly Sunday brunches with my sister, a once-a-month book club and the occasional mid-week pub quiz with some people from work.
“Actually, I don’t go out on Saturday nights. I’m more of a morning and daytime socialiser,” I said. “So, it would suit me down to the ground. Unless, of course, you’d prefer me to come at a different time.”
Jonathan frowned, and I wondered if he were judging my embarrassing lack of exciting night outings or if he merely felt sorry for me. I mean, Leonora had mentioned Jonathan was born in ’83, which would make him forty-one years old or thereabouts. He was older than me but clearly had a much more thrilling social and dating life.
“No, Saturdays are fine if that’s what works best for you.”
“Great, so I can start tonight,” I said, and Jonathan glanced back in the direction of his apartment. He rubbed his chin, thought on it and then replied, “Maybe next week would be better.”
For a second, I was oblivious, but then it dawned on me. He might want to bring Lissa back after their date. Ugh, I was such a clueless idiot.
My eyes grew big and round as I slapped myself on the forehead. “Right. Got ya.”
Jonathan smirked and looked at me like I was adorable, which I did not appreciate one bit. Still, I soldiered on. “Well, just so you know, I’ll make sure I’m done by at least ten p.m. on Saturdays so there would be no crossovers if you’re coming home with a, uh, a lady friend.”
More amusement flickered across his features. “Noted.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a key. “Here, take this so you can let yourself in next week.”
I took it, avoiding physical contact so as not to experience the same electrical jolt I’d had the last time he’d handed me a set of keys. Slotting it in my cardigan pocket, I noticed Jonathan’s amusement grow once again when he read my T-shirt.
“We had a bake sale at work last year,” I was quick to explain. “Some of the residents came up with the name.”
“Ah, I see. For a moment there, I thought you were making some kind of bold suggestive statement.”
Instantly, my cheeks burned like the fires of hell. “What? Oh my God. No. No .”
“Relax, Ada. I’m teasing you. So, how have you been finding the apartment? Any issues?”
“Issues? No, none. It’s been great. Super quiet. And the bed is amazing. My leg was better after only one night, and I haven’t had to use my cane at all.” I paused, worrying my lip again. Should I just ask him? It wasn’t like I hadn’t already embarrassed myself numerous times in front of the man. I was still willing my brain to forget the time he’d walked in on me naked.
“There was actually one thing I wanted to ask of you. A favour, but it’s fine if you can’t do it. Actually, it’s probably asking a lot of someone as busy as you are, so maybe forget about it.”
“Ada, what do you need?” he questioned, interrupting my nervous ramble.
“Okay, so, remember I told you about my accident? How nobody found me for a full day?”
His features sobered as he nodded. “Yes. What about it?”
“Well, it’s given me a bit of a phobia of living alone. I mean, I like having my own space and all, but I get anxiety that I might fall or hurt myself, and there’ll be no one there to find me. So, I was just wondering, if it’s not too much trouble, if we could possibly have a little arrangement where you check on me at the end of each day? It would only take a minute. You’d just have to knock on my door, and if I answer and all is good, you can go. But if there’s ever a time I don’t answer, you’ll let yourself in and then, like, call an ambulance if anything’s happened to me?”
When I finished talking, I glanced up at Jonathan and wasn’t sure what he was thinking. All I knew was he was staring at me so hard I feared he was going to burst a blood vessel. Oh, hell, I was asking for too much, wasn’t I?
I had no idea how he was going to respond and was about to tell him to forget about it, that it was a silly idea, but then at last, he swallowed thickly and said, “Yes, okay. I can do that.”