Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter
Thirty-Six
Beulah
The brick-paved road I had turned onto led me to what I thought was a renovated train station. There were lights on and I could see three different floors inside. It was one of those structures from a time when buildings such as train stations were works of art.
I still had no idea where I was or who I was here to see. I wished that Stone had given me more information than just an address. I sat there staring as the impressive building loomed in front of me. Squinting I read the historical plaque beside the front doors that said it was built in eighteen-ninety-eight. That was all I could make out from this distance.
There were three other cars parked out front. A black Hummer, a white Range Rover, and a red Porsche. Stone’s Black Range Rover was missing. This didn’t look like a single dwelling address. No one family would live in something this large. There were more than likely going to be several doors inside. I couldn’t just go knocking on all of them.
I checked the address again. He hadn’t given me an apartment number or a name. Maybe I was at the wrong place. I could text him and ask but I also thought it might be best if I just went to find somewhere to park for the night.
Before I could make a decision on how to proceed, a woman emerged from the front door of the building. Her long onyx hair hung down her back and over one shoulder. She looked like a runway model with high cheekbones, full lips, cat shaped eyes, and a body that could make any outfit look amazing. Her shorts showed off legs that were ridiculously long. A pair of designer sunglasses were perched on her head, although the sun had already begun to set.
Her gaze swung to me as she started walking in my direction. I watched until she was almost beside my car before I opened my door to see if she was coming to talk to me. Either she was expecting me, or she was walking over to ask me what I was doing parked outside. I was sure my car stood out.
Stepping out of the car, I had to tilt my head back to look up at her. With the heels she was wearing, she was at least six-foot-two. She swung her hair over her shoulder and gave me a tight smile. “I was going to ask if you were Beulah, but now that I see you, I know the answer to that question. Figures,” she rolled her eyes and turned to walk back to the building.
I didn’t move. I wasn’t sure what she meant exactly. She glanced back over her shoulder. “Are you coming or not?” she asked exasperatedly.
She didn’t seem very happy about this. I wasn’t sure I wanted to intrude on someone who didn’t want me there. “Uh, I don’t think so,” I replied, making up my mind before she snapped at me again.
That stopped her from the saunter that she made appear so natural but I knew I’d never be able to pull off. When she turned around again she placed her left hand on her hip and glared at me. “Seriously? Stone went to all this trouble, and you’re just going to leave?”
What trouble had he gone through? I hadn’t meant for him to go to any trouble. I started to ask when his Rover pulled into the exclusive parking lot. I had never been relieved to see Stone, nor had I imagined the day would come that I was. The feeling was new, but I was definitely glad he was here.
He got out and walked over to me, glancing at the girl. “You coming inside?” he asked, shifting his gaze back to me.
I looked nervously at the unknown female, who was no longer scowling but smiling politely. “She is a little apprehensive. I can’t convince her to come inside,” she said in a sweet voice as if she were talking about a small child.
“You’ve got nowhere else to go, Beulah.” His demeanor turned frustrated just that quickly.
I wasn’t being stubborn. He hadn’t been here, and the woman obviously didn’t want me here. I decided against saying that, though, since this was her apartment—or at least I assumed it was her apartment.
“I know,” I replied. Not only that but I didn’t have any of my things. I’d been so upset when I fled from Jasper’s I had left it all there. “I don’t,” I said, glancing back inside my car for anything I might have left in there, “have my things,” I finished. Not that he’d asked me. “I, uh, need to get some things.”
“They’re inside. I picked them up earlier,” Stone replied.
“You did?” I asked, once again confused by the words coming from his mouth. He seemed to keep doing that today.
“How else were you going to get them?” He didn’t expect an answer to that question, and I wasn’t sure I had a response just yet.
“This is my building. I rent out the other two apartments. Mine is on the top floor,” he said as he began to walk toward the building. He expected me to follow him I realized. Since he had my things, I closed my car door to follow him.
I looked at the building more closely. He owned this building yet he was always sleeping in Jasper’s pool house. Why? The pool house wasn’t anywhere near as nice as this place.
The woman was walking with more of a swing in her hips now. Or rather Presley as he had called her.
“You’re taking me to Manhattan soon, though. I want to see your new flat there. I’d rather live there with you than here in Savannah,” she said in a pouty tone as she gazed back at him.
“The rooftop is shared. Chantel and Fiona are on the second floor. And Marty and Mack—they’re on the first floor.”
He had ignored her comment. Although I was listening to him tell me about the building, it was hard to miss her body tense up. She didn’t like being ignored, and I doubted men ignored her often. It sounded as if she was living in his apartment, so what did that make them? I’d seen Stone with a lot of women. Jasper had mentioned Stone getting a ring for a Margot once, but that wasn’t Margot.
“Chantel is in the Caribbean with Dameon. Luke broke up with him last night, and he was having a meltdown, so she took him to the islands to get away. Luke’s such a slut. We all warned Dameon when he started dating him.”
Presley was telling this story so dramatically I felt like she was explaining the missed episode of a television show. Stone didn’t seem very interested in any of it. He stepped in front of Presley and opened the door. “I wanted to add a keypad for the lock so we wouldn’t need keys to the building, but there are rules in the city regarding any structure considered to be historical. When I bought it to restore, I had to keep several things within the period it was built. There are specific things you can’t touch to be considered a historic structure—the door, for instance. It had to be restored, and the original could not be replaced.” He waved his hand for us to come inside.
“It was a train station before?” I asked.
He appeared pleased that I realized its former purpose. “Yes. It’s a Romanesque revival building that was opened as a train station in eighteen-ninety-eight and closed in nineteen-eighty-five. It remained unused and empty for thirty-six years when I bought it at an auction and renovated it into three luxury apartments.”
Presley went ahead of me quickly and leaned in to kiss Stone lingeringly on the lips. “I missed you,” she whispered as if he hadn’t been telling me the history of the building.
He didn’t look pleased with the affection but didn’t turn her away. I noticed his hand even rested on her waist for a moment.
“There is no elevator. Again, I had to stick with the historical restoration code,” he said as I walked inside.
“Which is a pain when you have bags to carry upstairs,” Presley whined.
I’d been so silent I decided I should say something. “I bet carrying the groceries up can be difficult.” I replied thinking of the several trips it would take to get them up all those stairs. Other than that minor inconvenience, this place was beautiful.
She laughed. “Why would I carry groceries up the stairs? The delivery service does that.”
Of course. How silly of me.
Stone started up the stairs, and Presley rushed to stay beside him. I followed them up as she whispered and giggled in his ear. He never responded but he seemed comfortable with her nearness. As if they were a couple, maybe. I still couldn’t tell.
This wasn’t an ideal situation but just for tonight or perhaps two nights, I would stay. Get some rest and wake up with a clear head. I could keep out of their way and not give Presley any cause to be more annoyed with me. It was uncharacteristically kind of Stone to have offered for me to stay here and to get all my things. I didn’t want to appear ungrateful, but I also wasn’t sure how long his mood swings lasted. Could he morph back into the jerk I had grown accustomed to at any moment?
We reached the top floor and Stone used a key that looked antique to unlock the large heavy elaborate door. I knew the building was historical. However, I hadn’t expected Stone’s apartment would look like something from the Great Gatsby era. It was as if I’d walked into the book itself. I guess I had imagined something more modern inside.
“This is,” I said, turning in circles and taking in the entrance of his apartment. “Amazing.” Even the furnishings fit the architectural style.
“You like it?” There was a twinge of pride in his tone.
“Who wouldn’t?” I asked, still looking at all the details.
“You won’t be so thrilled about everything when you realize the bathrooms have those old claw-foot tubs instead of a nice whirpool,” Presley said with a sigh as if this was a real burden for her.
Stone didn’t respond. I wondered if she paid him rent. If living in this gorgeous apartment was free for her, then she shouldn’t complain about anything. I’d had a claw footed tub in the basement at Jasper’s house…I shoved that thought away. No. I would not think about him or that place. At least not tonight.
“You did all this?” I asked shoving thoughts of Jasper back and focusing on the right now. Stone getting his hands dirty was a definite distraction.
“I like restoring old things. It’s a hobby. I started two years ago and finished it up this past fall. Most of the big items were completed by contractors. I couldn’t always be here to oversee it since I was in college. However, any chance I had to get here, I took.”
Presley sighed dramatically. Something I was noting that she did often. “I love Manhattan. I hate your mother, but I love the city.”
Again, Stone ignored her.
“Your room will be the third door on the left,” Stone said. “There is a bathroom connected to it, and if you can suffer through the antiquated features, it’s yours to use,” he said the last bit with obvious disdain. Presley’s earlier comment was not well received.
“Thank you, Stone. I appreciate this. Really, I do. And I’ll spend tomorrow finding a place to live. I won’t be a hindrance.”
He frowned. “You’ve got a lot to figure out. The room isn’t being used. It’s yours. Use it. Don’t worry about a place to live right now. Deal with the other shit first.”
I didn’t look at Presley to see her response. She wouldn’t be as agreeable as him. She had made it clear she wasn’t crazy about my being here.
“Clover is coming to visit soon. She’ll need somewhere to sleep,” Presley said quickly. “That’s my sister,” she added as she glared my way.
“Clover can sleep in your king-size bed with you,” Stone told her. The authority in his voice was subtle but unmistakable. “That room is Beulah’s as long as she needs it.”
Presley inhaled sharply. “Are you fucking her? Is that it? Jasper tossed her out because he caught you with her, didn’t he? I can’t believe you’d do this to me! You’ve never thrown one in my face. All your sluts, even Margot—”
“That’s enough, Presley!”
I jumped, startled by his loud command. Presley immediately broke into tears. “You always hurt me. Always. Your mother doesn’t think I’m good enough. That’s it, isn’t it!” she wailed.
“Not the fucking drama. Jesus, save it for your friends. I’m not in the mood for it.” Stone’s voice was still louder than usual. Like a parent talking to a spoiled child. “Go wail to Fiona. Drink vodka or some shit. Just don’t do it here.”
Presley pointed at me. “And leave you alone with her? To fuck in our apartment? Your mother would hate her, too! She wants you to marry Margot!” The shrill of her voice made me wince, as did her accusations.
“I am not fucking Beulah. However, this is my home. If I want to fuck someone here, I will. My mother has never and will never have a say in who I do or don’t fuck. I don’t owe you anything, Presley. You owe me a lot. Remember that and go cool off. But not in my apartment.” Stone turned to me. “I need a drink. Presley successfully drives me to drink often. Can I get you anything, or would you rather go hide out in the sanctuary of your room?”
“That! You say things like that, and it’s mean. Cruel, Stone! Cruel! You act like I mean nothing to you. Just like your father—”
“For the love of God, would you take that yammering and find a friend to punish with it!” He was loud again. Almost shouting.
Presley spun around on her heel and ran out the door in tears. After it swung close with a heavy thud behind her, he sighed and shook his head as he walked to the bar and took a glass down from the rack beside it.
“Want a drink?” he asked again.
“No, thank you. I think I’ll just go to the room.”
I stood there watching him, trying to figure out why he was in a relationship with a woman he didn’t seem to like very much. He also wasn’t faithful to her, but she was aware of that. It wasn’t my business. He’d been nothing but generous to me today. Yet…
“Is she okay? Your girlfriend?” I blurted out the question unable to help myself.
He glanced back at me and then took a drink of his whiskey. “Presley?”
Of course, Presley. Who else would I be talking about? I didn’t say that, though; I simply nodded.
“She’ll be fine. She’s dramatic. It’s her nature and always has been.”
He hadn’t answered what I really had been trying to figure out.
“She does this a lot?” I asked.
He smirked and took a drink. “There are several reasons I was sleeping in Jasper’s pool house. What you witnessed was one of those reasons.”
“Then…why do you stay together?” I needed to shut up. It was the day I’d had making me continue to ask things I shouldn’t.
“That’s a story too convoluted to get into. I’ve not had enough to drink to unload that one. Maybe another time.”
I deserved a more curt response from him for my nosiness, but he’d been polite.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
He didn’t agree or disagree. Instead, he continued to drink and stare at me with his bored expression. He wanted me to go. After that debacle, I imagined he needed peace and quiet.
“Good night, and thank you again,” I said before turning to walk down the hallway toward the room he said was mine.
“You’ll find your things in the closet,” he told me.
“Okay, thank you,” I replied. I seemed to be saying thank you a lot to him today. But I didn’t know how else to express my gratitude. I wish I could do something to earn my keep or pay him back for all his help. Cleaning his apartment wasn’t something he needed. This place was immaculate.
“And Beulah, Presley is my stepsister,” he called down the hallway causing me to pause a moment in surprise. I didn’t turn around though because I wasn’t sure I could keep the shock off my face.