Chapter 18 #2
But she takes the comment in stride and nods at me. “Okay. But before we go, I should officially tell everyone the news first.” She raises a pointed brow, then claps her hands. “Could I please have everyone’s attention for a moment?”
Everyone in the art collective quickly gathers around; they were already staring at us anyway.
“I know everyone was pretty shocked and had a lot of questions this week, and now that he’s home, I’m excited that I can finally introduce you all to my…
” she pauses briefly like she’s gearing up to say the word.
“Husband. Archibald Fisher. You can call him Fisher.”
“Of Fisher Group,” Zane sneers.
Lila shoots him a sharp look. “Of the Fisher family,” she corrects, but I’m sure that’s no less damning in her friends’ eyes. “My husband doesn’t work for Fisher Group, and he’s trying to help our cause.”
Twenty pairs of eyes look at me with stony suspicion, and I take a deep breath. “Actually, Lila, I have news on that.”
My wife turns to look at me, her eyes swirling with hope. “You do?”
I nod. “It’s happening. Our offer was accepted this morning.”
“Agh!” Lila squeals, giddy laughter bubbling out of her as she flings her arms around me.
I pull her close reflexively, breathing in her jasmine scent and contagious joy. At this moment, there’s no amount of money on earth I wouldn’t have paid for this firehouse to get to be the person who made her happy.
“What’s going on?” A blonde woman in a sweeping floor-length dress asks.
Lila pulls back from me, her face shining.
“As of today, Fisher Group will no longer be buying the firehouse. My husband graciously offered to privately purchase the firehouse instead, and he included a no-demolition clause in the contract.” Her hand slips into mine and she squeezes.
I squeeze back. “Rebekah accepted his offer this morning, so we will all be able to continue renting our spaces here and keep the Collective alive,” Lila finishes with a huge grin.
She’s practically vibrating with excitement.
“Really? We can keep our art collective here?” The older woman who first greeted me when I entered the building asks.
I take a deep breath. “Yes, that’s exactly right. I know my last name is Fisher, but there’s no part of me that wants this historic building torn down. I tried convincing my family, but they wouldn’t listen. So, now Lila and I will protect it.”
Slowly, the art collective starts to clap and cheer. Everyone except Zane, who’s glaring at me. But I have an inkling that has more to do with my marriage than the ownership of the firehouse.
As Lila hugs everyone in celebration, a tall Black woman about my mother’s age approaches me. “I’m Masha,” she says as she extends a hand. I shake it.
“Fisher. Nice to meet you.”
“I must admit I was shocked when this whole marriage revelation came about,” Masha says, and there’s a protective undertone to her words that immediately makes me warm to her. I can tell she cares deeply about Lila. “It all just seems very…convenient.”
“I can imagine how this must all look, and I know it all happened very fast, but I assure you, I have nothing but the best intentions with Lila.” I hold eye contact with Masha as I speak, hoping she can see I’m sincere, and she looks at me with a steady, assessing gaze. Her expression is unreadable.
“She’s incredible. I’ve never met anyone like her,” I add.
Masha studies me for a moment longer, and she must see something in my expression that reassures her, because she nods. “Lila’s been…happier lately. And if that’s because of you, then I’m supportive.”
“That means a lot to me.”
“Good. I hope you’re very happy together. But if you do anything to hurt that girl, I will castrate you personally. Got it?”
I gulp. “Got it.”
Masha smiles sweetly. “Then we’re going to get along great.”
“Ready?” Lila asks as she comes up beside me
“Very much so,” I reply with a hurried nod. Masha is more than a little terrifying.
We exit and head toward the speakeasy she took me to weeks ago. We walk in silence, but it’s nice after the noise of the firehouse and my day spent traveling with my teammates.
The bouncer recognizes me this time when we reach the underground entrance of the speakeasy and steps aside right away so we can enter. I follow Lila inside and she leads us to a table near the live jazz band that’s playing soft music. Tommie notices us and tips his chin in a nod.
There’s a menu already on the table as well as a small candle and one single red rose. Same as the other tables. I pick up the menu, assuming Lila probably knows what she wants already.
“The Thursday special is catfish,” she says, confirming my assumption. “Trust me, you want to order the catfish.”
I let the menu fall from my hands with a thump. “Done.”
A server comes to take our order and Lila orders us two catfish specials before turning to me when the server leaves.
“We need to talk,” we both say at the same time.
Lila giggles. “Jinx!”
“You first,” I say, laughing.
She takes a deep breath. “Well, this is kind of…uncomfortable. But when I told Rebekah about us purchasing the firehouse, she was excited but also relieved.” Lila worries her bottom lip, drawing my attention to her mouth without even trying.
“Mostly because when she sells the building, to Fisher Group, us, or whomever…several inspections need to be completed by the city.”
I nod.
She swallows. “Legally, the firehouse isn’t coded for residential use. Meaning, I can’t be living there for the inspections.”
Understanding washes over me. “So…you’re homeless?”
Lila’s eyes shift as the server comes and places our ice waters on the table. “Well, technically yes. Rebekah said, and I quote, ‘I’m so happy you’ll be living with your husband, so I don’t have to worry about this.’”
I breathe a laugh through my nose. Poor Lila looks so uncomfortable, not knowing how to ask for my help.
But when I promised to be a friend to her on our wedding day, I meant every word of that particular vow.
And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to help my friends when they need it; they’re the most important people in the world to me.
“So come live with me, then.”
“What, like, move in with you and the others?”
“Sure. I think it’s probably for the best right now, anyway.”
Lila frowns. “Why?”
“Before Granddad died, my father cut off my access to my trust fund.” I hold a hand up and make a face at her. “And before you say anything, yes, I know it’s ridiculous that I usually have a trust fund at my disposal.”
“It is.” She giggles. “But go on.”
“Once Fisher Group finds out we’re the new buyers, it might make them look into our marriage,” I admit with a sigh.
“Because without my trust fund, my father knows I don’t have the funds to make the purchase without receiving my inheritance.
And not living together will surely raise red flags about whether I’ve met the conditions of my inheritance. ”
Lila drums her fingertips on the dark wood tabletop. “Well, shit,” she says.
“Shit,” I agree.
She chews her bottom lip.
“Our little ruse is growing more complicated by the minute.”
“I’m afraid so.” Pausing, I wrinkle my nose. “But no regrets on my end.”
“Yeah, mine, either.” Lila smiles. “And we’ve come this far now with our plan…a little temporary roomie situation to seal the deal doesn’t seem too wild, does it?”
The server drops off two orders of catfish with a side of veggies and potatoes, but I barely notice as I look into Lila’s onyx eyes and imagine what it will be like when she lives in my space.
The loft has four bedrooms, but Penn, Noah, and Ally occupy the other three—and though Ally and Noah often sleep in the same room, they both pay rent and have all their stuff in their own rooms…
which leaves Lila and I sharing my bedroom—a bedroom that’s only big enough for one bed.
This is all feeling suddenly very, very real.
But it was never supposed to be real.