Chapter 9 #2
Hendrix cleared his throat. “Just a quick reminder that we’re in a public building.
Inside voices.” We both glared at my cousin, and he lifted his hands in surrender.
“Anyway, I’ma let y’all finish this conversation.
I need to meet your friend out front anyway.
She recruited me to bring the rest of your stuff in, if you care. ”
“We’re not talking about this anymore,” she muttered under her breath.
“That’s what you think,” I grumbled.
Ignoring me, she asked Hendrix, “Aren’t you two on a break?”
Hendrix snorted. “I never said that. Your girl said she was done with me around nine this morning because I told her to order her own breakfast,” he explained. “Then, she asked me to help get the rest of your things from the car.”
My cousin had a love-hate, no-one-else-would-ever-really-be-right relationship with Brianna Cobb. He pushed. She pulled. It was a constant tug-of-war between them. I was convinced they loved it that way, because they were never really done with each other.
Chuckling, I said, “How long are you going to keep doing this?”
“I know, right?” Albany giggled. “When are y’all going to stop playing around?”
“Probably until the wedding,” Hendrix mused, rubbing his beard. “I am her plus-one.”
It was the first time she’d smiled at me tonight. And it felt like the sun had shone down on me, bathed me in light. I wanted to bottle the feeling up, the overwhelming sense of peace I felt, the calm that washed over me.
“How long has it been?” she asked Hendrix. “Fifteen years?”
“Twenty,” Hen corrected. “We were twelve when we sat together on the bus for a Cedar Point trip.”
Albany lit up. “Ah”—she clutched her chest—“I remember those days.”
Growing up in Detroit, we could count on one activity every summer.
A trip—or two—to Cedar Point, the world-famous amusement park in Sandusky, Ohio.
Back then, it was about thrill rides, roller coasters, thick-cut French fries, and funnel cakes.
Although the group was smaller, we still tried to make the hour-and-a-half drive annually.
“I haven’t been there in so long,” she continued, a wistful smile on her face. “Do they still have the Top Thrill Dragster?”
The year that particular ride opened, Albany had insisted we go on opening day because she wanted to be among the first to experience it. We continued that tradition every year afterward, until … Well, until we didn’t.
Hendrix frowned. “I think that closed a couple of years ago. But they have some new ones you’d probably like.”
“We’re going next month,” I offered.
Her smile fell then. “Oh?” She glanced at me under the brim of her hat, then averted her gaze again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“After the Fourth,” Hendrix added, his gaze flitting from me to her.
“Sounds like fun,” she responded flatly. “Anyway, I should probably head up to my new place. Thanks for helping with my stuff, Hen.” She looked at me again. “Thanks for helping earlier.”
It was a small gesture, but it was something other than ire. So, I responded in kind. “To answer your question from earlier, I’m here because you are.”
Her lips parted. “What?”
“On that note.” Hendrix stretched his arms above his head. “I’ll just take your stuff to your place, Albany.” Then he excused himself without another word, leaving us alone in the lobby.
Once I heard the soft click of the door, I cleared my throat and hefted my bag on my shoulder. “I can walk you to your apartment. Give you a short tour of the facilities.”
Nodding, Albany said, “Okay.”
As we headed toward her new condo, I gave her a quick rundown of building services, explaining everything from concierge hours to common areas and community amenities.
The building was equipped with a fitness center, an indoor pool, a rooftop deck, two multipurpose rooms, a mail room, and even a coworking space for remote workers.
Each unit boasted high-end finishes, including modern kitchens with high-end smart appliances, hardwood floors throughout, and bathrooms with spa-like fixtures.
Parking was a commodity in the city, so Granny had purchased the secured lot next door and offered valet parking during certain hours of the day.
“I’m sure Grady introduced himself to you before you entered the building,” I said as we neared her fifth-floor apartment. “He’s head of security, and his team works twenty-four-seven. If you have questions or concerns, he’s the one you need to talk to.”
“Yeah, he mentioned it, gave me his card, along with the access codes for the common areas.” She stopped in front of her unit. “He also gave me instructions on setting up the smart lock.”
“Good. He stayed late because I told him you were coming.”
She let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine, I was wrong for that. I’ll apologize to him.”
“Only him?”
“I’m sorry,” she grumbled, unlocking the door with the key I’d given her earlier.
“Thanks.”
Albany walked into the apartment and I followed behind her, flicking the light on. The apartment was one of the few fully furnished options in the building. Granny had kept it for important clients or consultants who were in town for a longer period of time.
“Wow.” Albany did a three-sixty turn in the middle of the living room. “I can’t believe this.”
“We call it the J Model,” I explained.
She grinned. “After Granny Joyce.”
“You got it.” I set my bag down on the couch.
Albany walked into the kitchen, inspecting the cabinets, the refrigerator, and dishwasher. She ran a hand over the granite countertop before she turned the faucet on then off. Seconds later, she ventured into the dining room, before making her way to the second bedroom.
She smoothed a hand over the wall. “I have an office again,” she murmured. “But I need …”
She carried on a whole conversation about supplies, computer monitors, and a special chair for her desk. With herself. It was almost like she forgot I was there. And that was okay with me. I just liked to watch her.
Finally, she turned to me. “Can I contact the concierge for a maintenance request?”
“Yes, they’ll coordinate it for you. They can also assist with reservations, manage deliveries, and recommend restaurants.
We even have someone on staff that will run short errands for residents.
Colby Thomas is the lead concierge. He usually handles the move-in service, but he had an emergency. When he gets back, I’ll introduce you.”
She tilted her head, surveying me. “How do you know so much about this?”
The question caught me off guard a little, but I replied, “I worked here before I went to work at Batchelor Corp.”
Nodding, she set her purse down on the desk. “You were the concierge?”
“Only part-time,” I told her.
When I returned to Detroit, I transferred to Wayne State University to finish my undergraduate degree, then promptly enrolled in an accelerated MBA program there.
Maintaining a full-time job wasn’t going to work, and instead of doing some made-up job at Batchelor Corp, I’d chosen to work close to home.
Being a part-time concierge was convenient because I could study while I was on duty.
“That’s cool,” she said after a moment.
Albany left me in the office to finish her tour. I didn’t follow her for one reason. Eventually, she would end up in the master bedroom. I didn’t want to enter that space until she invited me in. While she was gone, though, I took the opportunity to respond to some of my emails.
“Wes?” She poked her head inside the office. “I think I’m all set.”
I closed the email app on my phone and walked toward the front door just in time for Hendrix to haul some of her things inside. I really should’ve helped him with that, but … yeah, I didn’t want to.
He pushed a suitcase into the condo, then another one. “Bri figured you were hungry, so she’s getting food,” he announced.
Albany rubbed her hands together. “That’s perfect.”
A rumble of thunder caught my attention, and I stepped onto the balcony. Leaning against the railing, I peered at the sky. The sun was still bright, but dark, towering cumulus clouds loomed in the distance.
“Think it’s going to storm?”
Albany’s voice pulled me back to the present. I glanced at her over my shoulder. “Maybe.”
She joined me, staring at the wall of clouds forming to our east. “Looks scary.”
“It’ll probably pass over.” I stared at her profile.
She still had on that baseball cap. Back in the day, she’d gone through a period of hating her hair.
She’d purchased hats in every color, for every Michigan team.
Unable to help myself, I reached out and tapped the brim. “Are you going to take this off?”
She snickered. “You don’t want to see my hair right now.”
“Still hate your curls?”
Shrugging, she replied, “No. I’ve grown to embrace them. I still don’t know how to style my own hair, though.”
I fought the urge to touch her soft hair. Even after all this time, I remembered how it felt against my skin, the way her curls wrapped around fingers like vines. “Why did you take the braids out?”
“Grandma told me they were raggedy.” She giggled. “And a few of them fell out while I was working out.”
“We really should sit down to have a conversation.”
She raised a questioning brow. “Isn’t that what we’re doing now?”
I glanced back at Hendrix, who’d plopped down on the sofa and stretched out like he wanted to go to sleep. “In private.”
Albany walked to the patio door and pointed at it. “See this?” She closed it. “I can open it.” She slid it open. “And close it.” She shut it again.
“Away from your house,” I clarified. “At a restaurant or something.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t think we should confuse things.
We’re not friends. I don’t want to be your friend.
” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “In fact, I’m going to actively avoid you unless it’s related to the case.
I’ve said this so many times already, but you refuse to listen.
I’m really only doing this to help Granny. ”
And because you need the money. The sentence was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t say it. Even though I meant it in gest. After this afternoon, I sensed her financial situation was a sore subject for her. I’d already hurt her so much. I couldn’t do it again, whether joking or not.
At the same time, I wasn’t going to let her keep telling me we weren’t friends. Deep down, she knew it wasn’t true, which was why she kept saying it. “You’ve never lied to me before,” I said. “Why start now?”
She sighed, hanging her head. “Why are you doing this?”
“Bug, you’re fighting this.”
Albany flinched. “What?”
“Every time you tell me we’re not friends, it’s after we share a calm moment together.”
“That’s not true.”
I gestured to the space around us. “So, we didn’t just have a nice conversation?”
“Talking about the weather is polite, yes, but it wasn’t special.”
Closing the distance between us, I reached out to touch her. She didn’t move, didn’t even attempt to step away from me. Searching her eyes, I grazed my hand over her jawline. “You can’t stop this,” I whispered.
“Stop what?” she breathed.
“The pull that makes you want to be near me. The inevitable connection we have. It’s still there.”
She swallowed against the thumb I’d pressed against her throat. “I don’t want to be your friend.”
A smile tugged at my mouth. “You already said that.”
“You’re not listening to me.”
“I heard you.” I inched closer, brushing my nose against her cheek. “You don’t really believe what you’re saying, though.”
When she opened her mouth to talk, I took the moment to trace her lips with my finger. “Oh God,” she mumbled. “You can’t do this.”
“I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.
” I flicked her hat off, sank my fingers into her curls, enjoying her sharp gasp.
I wanted to kiss her more than I needed to breathe in that moment.
We were so close I could feel her breath against my mouth, smell the hint of cinnamon mixed with hazelnut.
“But I’m going to let you set the pace.”
“You’re so full of yourself.” She shoved me away, scrambling to pick up her hat and place it back on her head. “You think you’re funny, huh?”
“No, I’m dead serious. But since you want to change the subject, you’re going to need me if you want to get this job done sooner than later. Set up the interview. I’ll tell you who I’ve interacted with. Answer any questions you have about the company I keep.”
She waved me off. “I already know what I need to know.”
“Well, like I told you earlier, I’m here because you are. As long as you’re here, as long as Ms. Tea is wreaking havoc, I’m not going anywhere.” Before she could protest, I straightened her hat, ran my fingers over the brim. “Sounds like Bri is here.”
Albany blinked, glancing into the house. When she cracked open the patio Hendrix and Bri were arguing about whether feta cheese belonged on pizza. She smirked. “It absolutely does.”
I couldn’t stop staring at her. “What?”
“Feta cheese?” she said, her voice low. “It definitely belongs on pizza.” She froze when she stepped inside. Turning to me, she said, “Since you’re here, you can grab a piece.”
Laughing, I said, “Only if you have another non-feta cheese option.”