27. Lissa
Lissa
The following morning, I’m in the conference room with Noah. He’s been working with a few of the other associates over the past few days to consolidate several boxes, but needs my help with one of the more complex pieces of real estate documentation.
Both Carmen and Richard Reynolds have an unbelievable number of assets, including thirteen houses across the globe, multiple hotels, franchises, and business licenses.
I’m not sure how Noah hasn’t gone crazy sifting through it all.
We’ve been working in the small conference room for a couple of hours, with Adelaide poking her head around the door every now and then to check on us.
I’ve noticed Noah glancing at me several times, and I try to avoid his eye as much as possible, but when I do catch it, he always gives me a big smile.
It’s a nice smile, and he’s a very good-looking guy, but I’m already regretting agreeing to go on a date with him. In hindsight, it had been an impulsive thing to do, and now, absurdly, I am feeling guilty that I am going anywhere with another man.
Oliver isn’t my boyfriend, but lately our ‘sessions’ have become so intense that my heart and my head are getting confused about where they stand.
I’ve never been kissed by any man like Oliver kisses me, as if he owns me. I had heard women talk about being “weak in the knees” for a man, and that is exactly how I feel around him. I could melt into his whole body whenever he touches me and be almost on the verge of begging him?—
“Lissa?”
Looking up quickly, blood rushes to my face as I find Noah standing beside me.
“Wow. What are you reading? I’ve been talking to you for about a minute.”
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I was… uh… lost in thought.”
“I just got a call,” Noah says with a frown.
“Heath asked me to look into something yesterday, and I have to go check it out. Are you okay to keep going through these folders? It’s mainly the black files that will need to be rearranged, and then if you can put any pertinent details on the top, I’ll run through it this afternoon. ”
“Sure. No problem.”
“Thanks, Lissa,” he turns to go and then twists back around, his cheeks slightly pink. “I’m, uh, really looking forward to our date next week, by the way. There’s a little place near here that does great Italian food. Does that sound good?”
He gives me another smile, and I return it as he looks down at me hopefully.
“Italian sounds great,” I lie, as he heads out of the office, still smiling.
My stomach is in knots as I think about the date. It’s not even just about the absurd feeling that I’m betraying Oliver anymore; I simply don’t want to go on a date with Noah. I should just tell him I have to cancel, but the words keep getting stuck in my throat.
The truth is, I want to spend time with Oliver any chance I get, and I know I shouldn’t feel that way about him.
That was the whole reason that I told him yesterday that he shouldn’t get tangled up in me or my life.
I’m his paid escort; I need to get it out of my head that I’m anything other than that to him.
“I’m heading out to get coffee. You want anything? I thought I’d go to Wickmore’s.”
I look up at Adelaide, who is in a dark purple ensemble today with large purple earrings that clash with her eyeshadow.
“I’d love a coffee, thank you.”
“How’s Henry doing?” she asks, stepping into the room. She’s been very sweet, checking up on him every morning since the operation.
“He’s doing okay,” I say with a smile. “There have been a few complications with a small infection; he had a high temperature one night this week, so they’re keeping him in over the weekend for observation. But our doctor is hopeful he’ll be able to come home next week.”
“It must be awful being at work. You know you can take as much time off as you need.”
“Thanks, Adelaide. He has people spending time with him while I’m at work. I met this lovely woman who was also in the hospital, and she has spent hours reading to him. Also, my best friend Bethany has stopped in a couple of times. And, of course, his dad has been there too.”
She hesitates, hovering in the doorway, and then comes over to me with something in her hand. She opens her palm, revealing the little, purple, googly-eyed monster that always sits on the front of her desk.
“This was a present from my husband when I first joined this firm a million years ago. He bought it to cheer me up. I had breast cancer at the time, and it made me laugh.”
She leaves it beside my elbow. “I’d love it if you gave it to Henry. It was my lucky charm and always made me feel better. He’s a fighter, I can tell. And if he wants to keep it, he can, or he can give it to another child who needs it.”
I look down at the cheerful little expression on the monster’s face, the one spark of color on Adelaide’s desk, and the only personal thing she has in the office. Fighting back tears, I look at her and nod.
“He’ll love it, thank you.”
She gives me a tight smile and walks out of the room. I place the little monster in front of me, stroking him gently. This thing won’t leave Henry’s side until he’s through the chemo. He needs all the luck he can get.
When Adelaide delivers my coffee a little later, I’m engrossed in some documents that I’ve discovered at the bottom of the files, and as she places it down beside me, I look up at her in confusion.
“Can I ask you something that might be a stupid question?”
“Of course,” she says, leaning forward to look at what I’m reading.
“Is there a reason why there are charges against this apartment in Miami that aren’t declared anywhere else?”
She leans over the paper to read the line I’ve highlighted and frowns, shaking her head.
“Not obviously, but there are often hidden costs with apartment blocks like that. Sometimes people pay for a parking space in an underground lot, or maintenance fees separate from the rent. You’re right to highlight it, though. Make sure you mention it to Noah when he gets back.”
“Thanks, I will.”
But as I watch her leave the room, something sparks in the back of my mind.
The Reynold’s have a condo in a beautiful complex right next to the sea. It has multiple floors, and their place is on the sixth level, taking up almost half of one side. But the information I found wasn’t consistent.
Richard Reynolds had declared the condo costs in two separate lines on several pieces of documentation, and a pattern was appearing.
Ocean Ave: HOA $7,700, Unit 670
Ocean Ave: HOA $3,985, Storage Fees
Later in the documents, the storage fees are mentioned again, but it seems odd. What would the Reynolds need to ‘store’ alongside a condo in the same building? They have thirteen houses; surely, they wouldn’t pay storage fees on top of that?
Getting out my phone, I look up the condo where they live and search for the standard HOA fees that are applied to residents, but the website is surprisingly vague.
Then I look at Reddit and find my answer almost immediately.
Several people are complaining about the rising fees for their two-bedroom condos in the same complex. The new amount is exactly $3,985 per month.
Scratching my head, I look over the documents again. I’d used a green highlighter to pick out whenever the charge was listed, but no one else has flagged it. I feel as if I’m making a mountain out of a molehill, and I’ve probably misunderstood something.
I go outside to ask Adelaide about it, the papers in hand, ready to show her what I’ve discovered, but she’s not at her desk.
Glancing at Oliver’s door, I consider asking him about this. If it is something important, he’ll likely tell me to give it to Noah to handle, and if it isn’t, I’ll look like an idiot.
On the other hand, I haven’t seen him all morning.
Irritated by my own weakness, I set myself up for an inevitable fall and go over to his door. Taking a deep breath, I knock and hear the solid ‘come in’ from inside.
I leave the door cracked open to show I’m not there to disturb him with any ‘after-hours activities’ and walk to his desk.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” I say hurriedly, but Oliver is already turning from his computer, his eyes tracking me as I walk toward him.
“It’s no problem, what is it?”
“I was going to run this by Noah, but he’s been called away. I’m sorry if it’s trivial, but it’s just odd, and I’m trying to figure out if it means anything.”
“The Reynolds case?” he asks, holding out his hand for the papers as I give them to him.
“Yeah, I was looking through the real estate information. They have so many properties that it gets confusing, but the storage charge for their Miami apartment doesn’t make sense. It looks to me as if the fees might be for a duplicate apartment that hasn’t been categorized properly.”
Oliver stands and starts walking around his office while he looks over the paperwork.
It’s something I’ve noticed he does a lot.
Whenever he’s reading, he prefers to be standing up or pacing around his office.
I’ve walked in on him several times, leaning against shelves or his desk, reading on his iPad.
“There’s nearly four thousand dollars of storage fees going out every month,” I say. “It’s exactly the same cost as the HOA on a two-bedroom apartment in the same complex. I looked it up.”
Oliver glances at me, a little smile on his face, his eyes bright and full of humor.
“You looked it up?” he asks.
“Well… yeah. It was annoying me.”
He chuckles, it’s a lovely sound I don’t often hear, and it goes straight to my center.
“You may have just discovered something really important, Lissa,” he murmurs, and my heart swells at the praise. “Thank you. If Reynolds isn’t declaring this apartment, then he might not want his wife to know about it.”
“He wouldn’t actually set up a mistress in the same building he lives in with his wife, though, would he?”
“You haven’t met Richard Reynolds—the man has no scruples whatsoever.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he bought the one directly next door.
Going down a few floors would be a major inconvenience for him.
” He hits the paper with the back of his hand.
“Excellent work. Send Noah in when he’s back, and I’ll talk to him about it. ”
I smile, turning to leave when strong fingers grip my wrist, and I look back at him.
His eyes aren’t on me; they’re on the door, and my heart picks up as he tugs me over to him, his mouth coming down on mine in a molten kiss that has me collapsing against him immediately, unable to stifle the groan of need.
It feels like years since he kissed me, and it was only yesterday.
His tongue moves against mine, his hands proprietary and strong on my back as he explores my mouth, groaning softly before he pulls back slightly, his eyes flicking to the door again.
“Good job,” he murmurs against my lips, before he goes back to his desk and sits down.
He doesn’t look up at me again, and I place the backs of my hands on my hot cheeks, hoping I don’t look as flustered as I feel as I leave the office.
The universe is smiling down on me, however, because Adelaide isn’t outside, and I can go back to my desk without anyone seeing me. It takes me a long time to focus again on my work, thoughts of Oliver looping through my mind.
I can’t believe he kissed me during the workday—and with the door open.