16. Jules
SIXTEEN
JULES
There’s nothing like returning home after being away, even for a short amount of time. I’ll finally get to sleep in my own bed, with my own clean sheets, without a six foot four hockey captain beside me.
“Jesus fuck,” Drew groans, pulling my luggage out of the trunk. “We were gone for two days and I know you didn’t use half the things you packed in here.”
He sets my suitcase down with a thunk.
“Aren’t sports people supposed to be really strong?” I ask. I pull up the suitcase handle and place one hand on my hip as I look up at him.
“My suitcase isn’t that heavy, I just packed for all possibilities.
Five different pairs of heels, a pair of flats, comfortable shoes to walk in, every single pair of underwear I own, a box of tampons even though I just had my period, and hair accessories, make-up, a lot of outfits because I don’t know what I’m going to be in the mood to wear. ”
Drew exhales sharply, slamming the trunk door shut. “Why did you need to bring all your underwear?”
“For mysterious, womanly things,” I reply primly.
“Once again, we were gone for two days. What mysterious, womanly things can have you needing all your underwear?” Drew looks so confused.
“Why are you so obsessed with my underwear? Get yourself a girlfriend. I can’t explain everything.”
I turn toward the entrance of the building and I’m surprised when Drew reaches for the suitcase handle.
“I’ll walk you up to the apartment,” he says.
“Because you’re worried I’m going to get lost in the building I’ve lived in since I was eleven?” I tilt my head in question.
“Because I don’t want you complaining to Aunt Constance that I wasn’t a perfect gentleman,” he shoots back.
I have no choice other than to walk after him as he pulls my suitcase behind him.
I wave to Frank, the doorman as we walk into the lobby.
Frank’s been working here since I was a girl.
I’m convinced he discovered some serum to stop his age because I swear he was sixty years old when I was eleven and he still looks the same.
“Hi Frank! Did you miss me?”
“Always, Ms. Love. I have no one to share gossip with,” Frank says.
“Let me put my things away and I’ll be right down. I got something for your grandkids.”
I expect Frank to be excited at the prospect of sharing gossip, but he looks almost uncomfortable as he glances behind him at the seating area. There’s a man seated there, wearing a charcoal grey suit and shiny loafers.
“He’s been waiting for you for close to an hour,” Frank says in a low voice.
Drew is immediately on alert, and so am I. Why the hell would a man be here waiting for me?
He stands up when I walk closer to him, buttoning his jacket.
“Juliet Love?” he asks.
“Yes,” I confirm. Wait, am I being sued?
“This is for you.” He pulls out an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket and holds it out to me. My arms are motionless beside me and even though my brain sends the signal to them to move, they remain by my side.
Drew reaches out and takes the envelope. “What is this?”
“It’s an official notice to vacate the apartment,” the man says.
“What the fuck? Who the hell are you?” Drew growls.
The man looks between me and Drew. “I’m Brent Cassidy, I work for the law firm representing Harry and Kate Love.”
Drew glances at me in surprise. I take the envelope from him mechanically and tear it open, reading the letter inside.
It's a lot of legal jargon and it takes my brain a re-read to register what it says. I’m living in the apartment without a formal lease and my parents want me out.
They are generously giving me two weeks to find another place to live or else they will be forced to take further legal action.
“This can’t be fucking legal,” Drew says. I startle at his voice behind me, only now realizing that he’s been reading over my shoulder.
“Are you done?” I ask Brent.
“My number is on the letter. Please call me to collect the keys.”
I don’t acknowledge him and turn toward the elevators. My feet are moving without me realizing where I’m going. Normally, I’d hate for anyone, especially Drew, to see me like this. The part which is supposed to care is suddenly dead.
“Let me call Ford,” Drew says, as we step into the elevator. “His family has an army of lawyers and they’ll get this sorted out in no time. He won’t ask questions, don’t worry about that.”
The elevator opens on my floor and I walk to my door, unlocking it robotically.
I have to pack. The good thing is, most of the important stuff, things that belonged to Gemma, have been packed away and kept in a storage unit registered under my name.
They were left to me and no one can take them away.
Which means all I have left to pack is my clothes, the recording equipment, and my books.
The books are going to take the longest so I should probably start there.
“I thought Gemma left the apartment to you,” Drew says.
I pause at the door of my office and turn to look at him. He’s standing in the middle of the apartment and I can’t help feeling that he doesn’t belong here, among the cold, modern furniture and white walls.
“The apartment was never Gemma’s to leave. My parents let her stay here and after her, they let me stay here because it was my home.”
Drew frowns. “It’s still your home.”
It isn’t. I could fool myself into thinking it was still home after Gemma while Lavinia was still here. Without her, it’s just a place I’ve been living in.
“Well, not anymore. Besides, I’m almost thirty-three. It’s about time I bought my own place.”
I should have moved out a long time ago.
In fact, I shouldn’t have moved back in.
I was young and vulnerable, still dealing with Gemma’s loss and…
other things, and I foolishly believed my parents when they said the apartment will be mine as long as I need it.
I never anticipated I’ll stop needing it.
I pick up a notepad off my desk and start making a list of everything I’ll need in order to start packing.
“Jules, can you please sit for a moment?” Drew is standing inside my frilly pink office, the only place in the apartment that I changed back to its original state after my mother’s designer was done with it.
The pale pink rug on the floor, the pink wallpaper printed with pink, white, and red bows, the massive chair in the corner on which Lavinia read while I wrote at my desk.
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “Thank you for this weekend, and for bringing my luggage up. I don’t want to keep you any longer, you have to pick up Bailey.”
Drew crosses his arms, widening his stance slightly. The obstinate expression on his face tells me he’s not going to leave that easily.
“I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” I repeat. I hold my arms out to the side so he can look at me properly. “Look at me. Does it look like I’m bothered?”
“You’re telling me you’re going to pack up and move out of the only home you’ve known since you were eleven without a second thought?” Drew grinds his jaw so hard I’m worried he’s going to crack a molar.
“Yes, I’m very emotionally stable like that,” I say.
Drew laughs. He actually laughs. “The one thing I can say with confidence about you is that you’re not emotionally stable.”
“It’s a good thing you’re not a doctor because you’d have terrible bedside manner,” I say, my tone sharp.
Drew looks around my office, my bookshelves, the table where Lavinia and I record Unscripted, my desk. “Where are you going to go?”
I shrug. I’m not so worried about where I’m going to go as I am about the fact that I need to get out of here. I don’t care whether the notice to vacate is legal or not--it probably isn’t. The idea that they can so easily throw me out is enough to make me want to leave.
“I haven’t decided yet, but I’m sure it’ll come to me while I pack.”
I’m going to need a lot of boxes and packing tape. I scribble it down on the notepad.
“You can stay with me,” he offers.
I stop scribbling and move just my eyes to look up at Drew. Did he really just offer to let me stay with him? Did I hear him correctly?
“I think my ears are ringing, can you please repeat what you just said?”
Drew sighs, already annoyed with my dramatics. “You can stay with me. At my house. Until you find a place to stay.”
“The blissful weekend we spent together has gone to your head and it might be confusing you because we don’t like each other.”
Drew throws his hands in the air. “Okay, so let’s try to like each other, then. We’ve been in each other’s lives since we were five. It can’t be that hard.”
I toss my notepad onto my desk and twist my hair into a bun, pulling the hair tie off my wrist to hold it in place. I still haven’t had the time to digest that I’ve been kicked out of my apartment and this man wants to play around with me.
I’m going to drop kick him into the stratosphere.
“Have you lost it? What makes you think if we haven’t gotten along in the last twenty-eight years, that we can magically do it now?”
Drew removes his baseball cap and tosses it onto the chair, pushing two hands through his hair. It fluffs up perfectly, and honestly, I hate him a little for having perfect man hair.
“We’ll actually be trying to get along this time,” Drew says, through gritted teeth.
“I’d rather bathe in maple syrup,” I reply.
Drew looks at me flatly. “Really? Is it really going to be as bad as you’re making it seem or do you just want to argue because it’s what we do?”
Ugh, I can’t believe he’s being the adult in this situation.
“I’ve been kicked out of my apartment. Let me be dramatic!” I cry.
“Okay, fine.” He holds up his hands in surrender. “But where are you going to go?”
I need something to be angry about and right now, he’s the only one in the room making perfect sense, so I’m going to be angry with him.
“What’s it to you?” I ask through gritted teeth. “Why do you care where I’ll live?”
Drew shrugs his massive shoulders like the question isn’t even worth a reply. “Lavinia will be upset if I left you in the lurch.”
I hold his gaze for a moment, searching for a lie in his words. While it makes sense he’s doing it for Lavinia, I can’t help feeling there’s something more to his answer. What that is, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the same thing that makes him rescue me all the time.
Like he’s trying to do now. The idea that perfect Andrew Callahan who’s got his life organized to a T and who can always be counted on has to help me after I’ve been kicked out of my apartment by my own parents chafes a little.
“Look, I’m not saying living together is going to be easy,” Drew says, his voice soft. “It has to be a lot better than wondering where you’re going to go. I promise I won’t ask you to leave until you’ve found a place.”
“You say that now, but my presence will start to bother you if I’m still there a year from now. And what if we want to bring someone over? Do you have soundproof walls or will we need to invest in earplugs?”
I know I’m not going to be bringing anyone over. For one, all the men I ‘meet’ on dating apps always turn out to be less than appealing. There are the guys who ghost after one conversation and then the guys who always make things way too sexual after making you think they’re decent human beings.
I’m asking this because I want to know how many women should I expect Mr. Hockey Captain to have over.
“I’m not going to be bringing anyone home,” Drew says.
“You’ll have sex in public?” I confirm.
Drew pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sure, yeah. I’ll do that.”
“I’m just saying, I don’t want to cramp your style.”
“Jules, I’m not bringing anyone home. You don’t have to worry about overhearing anything or running into anyone on a midnight bathroom run. Besides, you’ll have an en-suite.”
I twist my mouth to the side, trying to think of another reason why I should turn down his offer.
It takes me a second to realize that the biggest concern for my safety didn’t even cross my mind.
I’m not scared that Drew is going to cross the line, that he’s going to come too close, that he’s going to impose the full weight of his height and body onto my personal safe.
That I won’t be able to escape if he held me down.
Because I know he won’t do any of that. Because he’s never once crossed a personal boundary, either with me or someone else, the whole time I’ve known him. Because in a sick and twisted way, I almost trust him.
We shared a bed and he didn’t misinterpret that or so much as cross the invisible boundary between our two sides.
“You’re sure you want that?” I ask. “You want me in your space? In your home?”
I wave a hand around my office to let him know exactly what’s coming along with me. I’m not a total loser who’s going to make his space mine, but my things will come with me.
Drew’s face remains blank but there’s something behind his eyes that I wish I could read. Some unknown emotion or thought.
“I wouldn’t have offered it if I wasn’t sure.”
It’s maybe not the most ideal situation, and chances are I’ll have to move back out again in a couple of weeks. But it’s somewhere to go until I find a permanent address. One that’s just mine, that no one can take from me.
I look around my office, the same room that once used to be Gemma's sewing room, and I will myself not to cry. I’m sure as soon as I’m gone, my mother will scrub it back to neutrality, the same way she did with Gemma, like we never even existed.
I swallow the lump in my throat, and nod. “Okay, thank you. But I better not wake up to you standing over my bed with a knife in your hand.”
Drew smirks. “Don’t worry, I’m not into knife kink.”
I gape at him. This is the second time he’s made a sexual innuendo or joke with me. “Andrew, I do think we’re going to make good friends.”
His green eyes shine with mirth. “We’ll just have to work really, really hard at it.”