15. Lennie
Lennie
I ’m ten minutes late to work. I’m shaking not just from the physical toll of this morning’s activities but the emotional.
Elijah kissed my nose, told me to take a shower, and then took Albert out for his morning walk. I rushed the fuck out of there, desperately needing space to sort out my thoughts and feelings.
I’m logging into my emails when Elijah’s name flashes on my phone.
He sent me a video of a girl styling jewelry into her hair. I study the pretty pearl comb she uses to pin her hair into a half-up style.
There’s no other message except for the video.
Lennie: Why is the thought of you scrolling the internet so weird?
Lennie: Do you like it when I wear my hair up?
He never explained why he was adamant I put my hair up into a ponytail the other day.
Pen Pal: I like it when you don’t try to hide.
Fuck this bastard and his ability to make me melt.
Pen Pal: Almost as much as when you come on my tongue.
“Oh fuck.” An incoming call from my mother appears. I swipe quickly, clearing my throat. “Hey, hi.”
“Good morning, my darling daughter.” A faucet runs in the background. She’s got to be in the kitchen, her favorite place.
“Morning, Mom,” I say a tad calmer. “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on?” she asks. Gia tends to talk with a bit of sarcasm in her voice. It’s where Adeline gets her theatrics from. “You tell me, my darling daughter.”
“What do you mean?” The words are dull and I wiggle in my seat. No wonder Dad never talks business in front of me. Don’t ever put me on the stand.
“You think I don’t know when my daughters are keeping things from me? I’m your mother.”
I tap a pen up and down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh huh. How was your sleepover with Nat?”
Nat wouldn’t give me away. “It was fine.”
“And the boy you’re dating? How is he?”
“What are you talking about Mom?”
She makes a noise under her breath. A pan rattles in the background. “Leopold.”
“Leopold?” The walls close in and I turn toward the window. There’s a spotless sky outside, the light bright against my eyes.
“He sent some beautiful flowers.”
“What?” But I already know what she’ll say before she goes on.
“Carnations. Your dad said you should expect nothing less than peonies and while he’s not wrong, I don’t think they’re anything to turn your nose up. The color is beautiful. I’ll send a picture. Is he who you were with last night?”
I grit my teeth. “I told you mamma, I was with Nat.”
Who I’m texting the minute we get off the phone, reminding her to cover.
Mom tuts under her breath. “Why don’t you tell me about this Leo, honey. He’s the one who you went out with last weekend?”
“Mom.” I’m saved when my boss sticks her head in. “I’ve got a work meeting, I’ve got to go.”
My boss couldn't care less about phone calls during the work day. She drops off a file and leaves, but I take the excuse to drop the call and text Elijah.
Lennie: Leopold sent flowers to my house!
Dots don’t even appear.
Once again, Leopold’s shadow looms over my shoulder. He continues to not give a fuck, though, Elijah told me he’d deal with him. But what if I miscalculated? What if Leopold calls Elijah’s bluff? Or sees it as a challenge?
What was I thinking? They’re both crazy motherfuckers. There’s no way this ends well.
Pressure builds behind my eyes. Janis would advise me to get up and walk or work on some breathing exercises. It’s only been a week since Leopold appeared in my life. I need to take a beat and recognize that there’s still time for things to work out.
And they will.
They have to.
Or else everything’s just gone to shit for no reason.
I pull up Ren’s number and press call. It’s mid-morning and there’s no guarantee she’ll pick up.
“Hey,” she says with her usual cheerfulness. “What’s going on?”
“Sorry for calling. You’re not busy are you?”
“No,” she assures. “And you can always call me. Honestly, I love having an excuse sometimes to pause a meeting.”
Sounds like a classic power move, Ren telling a bunch of mobsters to take a break.
“Leopold sent flowers to my house.”
“Gross.” The familiar sounds of pots and pans bang in the background.
“Are you already at Fujimori’s?”
Part of me wonders if she lives right above it, she’s there so often.
“What gave it away? Abe and his dad arguing. But anyway, what happened to Elijah getting him to back off?”
“I don’t think it worked.” And I’m worried.
“Well, it’s only been a week.”
This is why I called. I can tell myself that, but hearing it for someone else proves I’m not crazy.
“We both know Elijah plays the long game. There’s no telling what he’s got up his sleeve,” Ren says.
“But what about Leopold?” What does he have up his sleeve? “Have you heard anything about his family?”
“Uh, his uncle is in parliament now. A rising star and they’ve made a lucrative deal recently. Something pharmaceutical.”
“He made it sound like they were trying to make inroads here.”
“They are but everything’s above the board. Or at least not as below it as some of our favorite friends.”
“What do I do?”
“Well, for starters tell your security you have a stalker.”
I chew my lip in thought. Mom sounded so excited about a man sending me flowers.
Adeline used to bounce from boyfriend to boyfriend.
Nat and Lia constantly give each other jewelry.
I don’t want to keep being the loser daughter but I can’t give into Leopold.
But I also can’t let Mom torch the city down.
It’s on me to fix this.
“How did the sleepover go?” Ren asks.
Thankfully, this conversation is over the phone thereby hiding my red face.
“It was great thanks.”
“Make him take you somewhere fancy for dinner. Prove to this British wanker that you’re taken.”
Elijah would do it. And worse, I kind of want him to. “Thanks for listening to my freak out.”
“It’s a completely valid freak out considering you’ve got a stalker.” She sounds like an older sister supporting my choices while advising caution.
“Ugh, don’t remind me.”
“Hey, Isolde’s birthday is coming up. Bring your new man along.”
“Um. . .”
“You do remember you’re the one who came up with this plan, right?”
“Yeah, all right,” I grumble, but I’m really not put out at the thought of spending more time with Elijah.
Elijah never responds to my text, but he does show up to take me to lunch. When he wraps an arm around me, I lean into him. We go around the corner to a café packed with other employees escaping the humdrum of office life. Since it’s a Friday there’s a general air of goodwill.
Naturally, I’m miserable.
“I’m feeling slightly offended.” Elijah spears a piece of his salad, a leafy green, with his fork. “After this morning you should be in a much better mood.”
“You don’t have a magical tongue, Elijah,” I mumble.
He leans forward. “What was that?”
I asked him if he got my text since he never responded to it, but he simply shrugged. I hate how easily he can shake things off. He can keep it together while I want to sink to the floor and not get up.
I nibble on a cookie Elijah bought me. “Why won’t you tell me what you’re planning with Leopold?” I’ve asked several times, but he won’t give any details. And I know this man always has a plan.
“You don’t need to worry your pretty little head. How much longer do you have?”
I check my phone. “Thirty minutes. You know women don’t like patronizing men who tell them not to worry.”
“You liked me just fine this morning. How many times have you thought about my tongue on your cunt?”
My cheeks combust. “Would you stop that.”
“Stop what?” he innocently asks. This is the third time he’s alluded to this morning. It’s nice, realizing I’m not the only one thinking about it.
I cross my legs and he smirks.
“Panties wet?” he coyly asks.
“What panties? You took them all away.”
His smirk drops.
“What?” I can’t help but keep going. “Did you think I had a spare stashed somewhere?”
I wasn’t happy going commando at first, but this interaction makes up for it.
“Leonora. . .”
“Lennie,” I correct. “Come on lets walk.”
I usually read on my breaks, but lunch is a welcome distraction. I feel the need to keep moving, though.
Elijah grabs my hand. I try to shake him away, but he squeezes tight. “Careful. You don’t want to get lost.”
“You’re annoying.”
His eyes narrow. “Am I the only person you talk back to?”
I swing our hands as we walk, my other in my coat pocket. “If you asked my sisters, no.”
Elijah pulls me closer when a group of tourists pass by us. “You never speak back to other people. Am I the only one who gets to see this pushy side?”
“You’re the only one who brings out this pushy side,” I mutter.
He lifts our hands, kissing the back of my palm. An ember sparks deep inside me and I try to ignore it. Such a simple gesture makes me giddy, though. His attentions are something I’ve always wanted.
I mean, a man’s attention. Not specifically, Elijah’s. . . right?
He pretends to pout. “Are you going to continue to try to keep me away from your friends?”
I stare down at my sneakers. “Ren said to invite you to Isolde’s birthday party.”
“Ren?” Elijah rolls the name around. There’s no malice in his voice, but rather curiosity. Like maybe he wonders about her after all this time.
“She’s only said good things about you.” I’m kind of surprised, because not only does she typically dislike the Zimins, but not many people like Elijah to begin with. But she’s oddly supportive of this crazy plan.
“Don’t you know not to trust people who have good things to say about me,” Elijah says with a smirk.
“I have good things to say about you.” Despite all the times, he’s annoyed me.
His dark brows quirk and for a second I think he’s confused. It quickly smooths away. He wraps an arm around my shoulder, the scent of cinnamon and cloves settling around me.
“And what good things do you say?”
“You’re a good brother.”
He stiffens and I think he wasn’t expecting me to be serious. Elijah operates in sarcasm and gray areas after all.
“You’re nice to Russet,” I add. “And I love your dog.”
I’m rewarded with his genuine smile. “Everybody loves that damn dog.”
“He’s adorable.”
“And me?”
“Now you’re fishing.”
“Not to mention I’m a skilled kisser.”
“Now you’re laying it on thick.”
“And—”
I shove him away from me before he can finish the sentence. He bounces back, a retort on his lips when he follows my gaze.
“What’s my sister doing over here?”
She’s across the street and luckily not facing us. She stands in front of a storefront but from our vantage point, it takes me a moment to realize it’s a bookstore.
Adeline loves fantasy as much as I love my smutty romances. But she’s unmoving as she stands in front of huge bay windows.
“She’s never over this way.” Her work is nowhere nearby and there’s something about the way she stands so still.
People swerve around her and a large group spills out of the bookstore, bags in each of their hands. I want to know what’s displayed in the window because Adeline lifts her hand, her fingertips grazing the glass before she drops it.
It’s like she glitches, the way she steps back and pushes her hair off her face. Her movements aren’t shaky, but they’re robotic, adding to my worry.
She turns and walks away and for a second I think of a little kid walking all alone.
“Ads,” I call after her, but the pitch isn’t loud enough to be heard.
Elijah pushes a strand of hair out of my face, forcing my attention away. “You don’t know that it’s anything bad.”
He’s right. The bookstore is gorgeous and getting a far-off look isn’t grounds for immediate concern. But the worry doesn’t fully subside.
After a few frozen moments, I link my elbow through his, pressing into his side. “Hey, Elijah.”
“Yes?”
“Um, you know don’t you, that most boyfriends buy their girlfriends books.”
He laughs. “Come on you insatiable thing.”
It’s the truest nickname he’s called me yet.