9. Jason
Chapter 9
Jason
D espite its bleakness, the Pliny Building is a sensory overload.
Whiffs of stale cigarettes and burnt food overtake me as I enter the foyer. Canned sitcom laughter pours through the walls, drowning out the meows of the cat darting through my legs. Trash spills onto the floor from the bin in the corner.
I stand in a mixture of shock and awe at my surroundings—and at the fact that Chloe lives here.
This isn’t safe.
What the actual fuck?
My anxiety level rises, and my instincts kick in. I want to check for threats and secure the premises. Then I want to get my target out of here.
I rarely fight my instincts. But, today, I must.
The door swings shut in the distance, the sound rattling through the empty lobby. A long hallway extends before me, and another lies to my right. A front staircase splits the middle but is blocked off by yellow caution tape.
I spy a laminated map of the building tacked to the bulletin board by the stairs.
4A. Down the hallway and then up the back stairwell .
My senses heighten as adrenaline pulses through my veins.
Nothing about this feels right—the building, the man with a mustache watching me through an open door on my left, or the fact that I’m showing up to Chloe’s uninvited.
But the idea of Chloe being here feels wrong, too. And that propels me down the hall and up the rickety stairs until I’m standing in front of apartment 4A.
A wreath wrapped with pink flowers and vines hangs in the center of the door. It’s a startling contrast to the surrounding gray walls. It’s so Chloe.
Before I can decide my next move—something I should’ve already done—the door opens, and a woman with short, unnaturally black hair is staring at me.
“ Oh .” She looks me up and down. “Who are you?”
Fuck . “I was just, uh …”
“Are ya lookin’ for Chloe?”
“What makes you ask that?”
“Because who else is a man like you coming around here to see?” She chuckles, aiming her head into the apartment. “Heya, Mabel. There’s a man here to see Chloe.”
“A man? What kind of man?” a voice calls from somewhere in the distance.
“A cute one.”
“Well, what are you waiting on, Greta? Send him in.”
“All right. I’m heading out now. See you tomorrow. Call if you need me.” Greta holds the door wide open. “Go on.”
I start to object and blurt out that I am leaving but stop short of it. I’ve come this far. I have to know Chloe and her grandmother are okay.
“Thank you,” I say, slipping by her.
I take a deep breath and assess the situation. A picture of Chloe is on a little table beside the door. In it, she sits next to two women and wears a happy, carefree smile.
“I’m in here,” a woman’s voice calls from around the corner.
Here goes nothing.
My heart pounds, at war with my brain, as I slide farther into Chloe’s space.
There is no going back now.
“Well, look at you.” A woman sits in a brown recliner with a quilt over her lap and a book of crossword puzzles in her hand. Her purple shirt matches the bruise on her head. The infamous Mimi. “Have a seat.”
She motions toward a sofa, so that’s where I sit.
“I’m Jason Brewer, Chloe’s boss. I apologize if I’m interrupting.”
“I know who you are. I’ve heard much about you and seen your picture a few times.” She grins. “I’m Chloe’s Mimi, and you’re not interrupting anything. You saved me from Greta. She just drones on and on about her grandson and my granddaughter.” She rolls her eyes. “That coupling will happen over my dead body.”
That makes two of us .
I chuckle, mostly at the way her eyes sparkle with mischief.
“Now,” Mimi says, setting her crossword puzzle on the tray table beside her. “What are you doing here? I don’t reckon you were just in the neighborhood.”
Few people in the world can read others as well as I do. Mimi seems to be one of those people.
“You’re a straight shooter, aren’t you?” I ask, appreciating how her eyes light up like Chloe’s when she’s ornery.
She laughs, warm and unguarded. “You aren’t going to hit a target if you shoot sideways.”
“That’s true.” I clear my throat. “Chloe didn’t show up to work this morning and hasn’t answered my calls. I was nearby and concerned. So I thought I’d stop by and check on her.”
Mimi smirks before I can backtrack or attempt to smooth over my admission.
“Do you go to all of your employee’s homes when they miss a day of work?” she asks.
A slow smile graces my lips. Mimi winks in return.
“She ran to the pharmacy for more … oh, whatever you call the stuff for swelling,” she says, frowning. “I fell again this morning. Got a knot on my knee to match the one on my head.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and study Chloe’s grandmother.
She’s thin and frail, with pale skin and silver hair. There’s a pride about her—a sense of unapologetic dignity—and despite her stature, she has a maternal presence that steals your attention.
She reminds me a lot of my grandmother.
“Are you okay?” I ask her. “Did you see a doctor?”
“Nah, I’m fine. I mean, I won’t win any beauty pageants for a while, but I’ll survive.”
I grin, nodding at my realization. “I see where Chloe gets it.”
“What? Her beauty?”
I laugh. “That and her stubbornness.”
“Well, maybe.” She chuckles but places her palm lightly against the bump on her head and winces. “It’s hell getting old, Jason.”
A piece of my heart splinters, hurting for this woman.
I imagine seeing my mother like this someday—a strong, vibrant person weakened to a ghost of herself. It kills me. At least I’d have my siblings there to shoulder some of it and share the experience.
Chloe has no one.
As if she can read my mind, Mimi nods knowingly. “I wasn’t always a broken old lady, you know. I wasn’t always a liability.”
“I’m certain Chloe wouldn’t appreciate hearing you talk like this.”
I glance at the door. How long until Chloe returns?
Now that I know what’s going on, that Chloe isn’t sick and no one’s hurt, the part of me focused on protecting her switches back to protecting my own skin. Because if Chloe catches me in her apartment, talking to her grandmother, I’m not sure what will happen.
With the adrenaline from earlier now dissipating, I’m not sure I want to know.
But I can’t interrupt Mimi.
“And I’m certain you’re right. Chloe wouldn’t like this one bit. But that doesn’t make it any less true,” she says. She sits back, resting her head against the chair. “I’ve lived a good life. Married a decent man. Raised a daughter who made me proud. Got a brilliant granddaughter who I love with all my heart. I worked hard. I traveled. I did some things that I sit around now and think about and wonder how the hell I didn’t get murdered.”
She laughs softly, gazing off into the distance.
I don’t know her well enough to discuss her life and feel awkward getting so personal. But something tells me she needs to talk about it. And I’m already here.
“It sounds like you enjoyed yourself,” I say.
“Oh, I did.” Her gaze pulls to mine. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
She watches me intently, pinning me to the sofa.
I begin changing the subject, but her mouth presses into a tight line.
Okay, then . I take a deep breath. “No.”
“A boyfriend?”
I catch a laugh before it escapes my throat. “Um, no.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I am a heterosexual.”
She chuckles. “Good to know. But why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
I’m knocked sideways by this line of questioning. I definitely didn’t see it happening today, let alone from her. But the question is direct and matter-of-fact, and Mimi clearly expects an answer. I’m not about to disrespect her by evading it.
“I don’t date,” I say, going with an easy excuse. “I don’t have a lot of free time.”
She smiles to herself. “That’s a lie, but I won’t press you on it.”
“What do you mean I’m lying? You just met me ten minutes ago,” I say, amused.
“Honey, I didn’t get to be my age and not learn anything about people. A man like you? Everything you do is intentional. Am I right?”
I don’t know what to say, but I feel it’s a rhetorical question, anyway.
“So let me ask you this,” she says. “If everything you do is intentional, why are you really here?”
The room stills, and her question hangs in the air. It’s like a grenade spiraling toward the ground, ready to explode on impact.
“I talked to Chloe last night,” I say, my voice low. “I heard a man yelling, and she sounded upset.”
Mimi’s expression darkens.
“And she mentioned you’d fallen yesterday,” I add. “When she didn’t answer me this morning, I had a bad feeling. I guess I just wanted to know what was going on—that you both were okay.”
“Why did you care?”
The smugness in her tone pulls at the corners of my mouth.
“I’m nosy,” I say, grinning.
“Curiosity can do more than kill a cat, you know.” She leans back again. “I think you’re a good man, Jason. So I will tell you something, but you can’t tell Chloe.”
I flinch.
I didn’t come here to get in the middle of family secrets. God knows my family has enough of them for the whole city. But despite my hesitation, I also can’t get up and leave. I’m rooted on this sofa, at Mimi’s mercy.
“Chloe has the best heart of any person in the world,” she says. Her words are somber but tinged with an unmistakable tenderness. “She’s stronger than I ever was.”
Mimi closes her eyes briefly and sighs softly.
“Her mama, my daughter, was sick with colon cancer for three years,” Mimi says. “Chloe took care of her. She took classes when she could and worked two jobs when she had to, but that little granddaughter of mine never complained. Not once. And when my Beatrice passed, God love her soul , Chloe was holding her hand and singing to her.”
Fuck. My hands wring together as I endure the wrenching in my chest.
“Then she moved me in with her despite my objections,” she says, chuckling to herself. “I told her I would go to a nursing home, but she wouldn’t stand for it.” Mimi’s head rolls to the side so she’s facing me. “Chloe gives up her life to take care of me. She lives here to make it work. With her debt from taking care of her mama, student and personal loans, and the cost of just trying to live right now, it’s killing her. And she doesn’t say a word .”
The last sentence is nothing above a whisper. Yet she may as well have shouted it.
I knew Chloe was strong and determined. I’m aware that she’s sweet, genuine, and kind. But I had no idea that she was going through so much personally.
Guilt riddles me.
How do I call her a friend and not know this about her? How could I have missed the signs? Why hasn’t she said anything to me or asked for my help?
I still. It seems she’s used to being the one doing the caring, not the other way around.
“Greta’s helping me get a plan in place to move into a nursing facility,” Mimi says, her voice clear.
“Have you talked to your granddaughter about that?”
“No. She’ll fight me on it. And I know she’ll be unhappy for a while, but it’s best for her.” Tears gather in the corners of her eyes. “I’m the only person on this planet who loves her and would do anything for her. And the best thing I can do for her is give her life back.”
A lump lodges in my throat as I reach across the space between us. I take her shaky hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze.
“If Chloe’s upset in the next couple of weeks, that’s why,” Mimi says. “I’d appreciate you giving her a little grace.”
Damn.
I’ve fought in wars. Lost friends. Watched a man try to murder my mother.
Through it all, I was as cool as a cucumber.
So why am I fighting back tears over a woman I barely know?
Fuck this shit. I need to get out of here.
“I will absolutely give her grace,” I say. “Please don’t worry about that.”
“And don’t let her worry about me. Hell, I’ll be able to go outside there and breathe the fresh air. Feel the sunshine on my face. Might even get to smell a flower now and again.”
I’m in awe by the simple things that Mimi clearly misses—things I certainly take for granted. Fresh air. The sunshine on her face. The scent of a flower . Yet this woman, who is both opinionated and sweet, isn’t complaining.
The apple doesn’t fall far from that tree, it seems.
Maybe there is something I can do.
“Can I do anything for you, Mimi?”
She waves a bruised hand through the air. “Just keep an eye on my sweet girl.”
I stand, needing a bit of fresh air, too. I’m not sure what to make of this information. Helplessness is not something I do well.
“I need to get going, Mimi. I have a few appointments this morning.”
She looks at me and nods as if she’s sad to see me go.
I sigh. I can’t just leave her like this . “Can I give you my phone number? You know, just in case you ever need anything?”
She points at her crossword book and the pencil beside it. I take it and write my name and number on the inside of the front cover, then I place it back on the table. She gives me her number, and I add it to my phone.
“If you need anything, call me, okay?” I ask. “And I mean that. We’re friends now.”
“Thank you, Jason. It was nice meeting you.”
“You, too.”
A lock snapping and a door swinging open rings through the room. Mimi and I exchange a glance.
“Meems, I’m back,” Chloe says, her footsteps growing closer. “I found the— Jason ?”
Her eyes are wide, her mouth open. She drops the small box in her hand.
I shove my hands in my pockets and don’t say a word.
I didn’t have a vision of how it would look when I saw Chloe, but this wouldn’t be it if I did. It would’ve been easier if she had answered the door or if she had been here when I came inside. At least we could’ve been surprised together.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, glancing quickly at her grandmother. She returns her attention to me as she picks up the box. “Please. Enlighten me.”
“I was worried. You didn’t return my calls or show up, and that’s not like you.”
She laughs nervously. “Yeah, well, sounds like someone has control issues to me.” She hands Mimi the box and then squares her shoulders to mine. “Let me walk you out.”
“It was nice meeting you, Mimi,” I say.
“And you’re calling her Mimi?” Chloe lifts a brow before turning to the front door. “I leave for twenty minutes …”
Mimi winks at me, entertained by the situation. Chloe, on the other hand, is not.
She ushers me into the hallway, letting the door slam behind her. A woman walking our way jumps at the sound.
“What the hell, Jason?”
She’s so hot when she’s pissed.
I smile at her, hoping for one back. That doesn’t happen.
“What are you doing here?” she asks with a hand on her narrow hip.
“Excuse me,” the woman says, reaching us. “Are you Chloe Goodman?”
Chloe blows out an exasperated breath. “Yes.”
“I have this for you.” She hands her an envelope. “Have a good day.”
“You, too,” Chloe mutters, ripping the envelope open. She unfolds a document. Her brows pull together as she reads it. “ Oh my God .”
“What?”
She clenches her teeth together and folds the letter angrily. When her eyes meet mine, they’re filled with tears—angry ones, I think.
“Is everything all right?” I ask, my head spinning. Is this her life? One disaster after another?
“You know what? No. It’s not all right. But it will be.”
“Can I help?”
She sighs, rolling her head around her neck. “Thank you, Jason, but no. You can’t help. How did you even get my address?”
“Keisha.”
She makes a face to express her displeasure.
“Maybe I overstepped,” I say, holding my hands before me. “But you scared the shit out of me. What was I supposed to do?”
“Wait until I get in the office.” She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
“Why?” Because you’re not used to people showing up for you?
“Because this … This is my life. It’s a very different world from Brewer Air. And when I’m at work, I’m not reminded of this. But now …” She groans, shrugging helplessly.
“But now what ?”
I want to reach out and pull her into me, promising her everything will be all right. Because I could make it all right. I could fix all her problems easily, and it would please me so fucking much to do that for her. And for Mimi.
She won’t accept my help, though. As a matter of fact, I know she’d take it as an insult. She’s as prideful as her grandmother. That’s an endearing trait most of the time. But right now, it’s frustrating.
“You don’t want me here?” I ask.
I take in the fear in her eyes. The vulnerability . It rips my heart into pieces.
She deserves to have someone protect her—love her. Help her. Cheer her on. Why can’t that be me?
“No,” she says. “I’ll come into the office this afternoon. We can talk then.”
“All right,” I tell her, keeping my hands in my pockets so I don’t reach for her. “I’ll go.”
She nods, her bottom lip quivering.
I turn away before I do something stupid and move silently down the hallway.