Chapter 19
NO.
I make a pouty face. Pleeease?
Emma, do you realize what you’re asking me to do here?
Rudy gets a full-body shiver and stares at me, his eyes fiery with disgust. You want me to perform in front of a bunch of lawyers, and as if that’s not horrifying enough, you want me to sing Christmas songs while we’re at it? You must think I’m an idiot.
Did I mention you can put your own spin on things? You can totally do a rock version of All I Want for Christmas. It’s my absolute favourite song of all time.
Remind me again why we’re friends? he snarks, sounding semi-desperate. You have worse taste in music than my five-year-old niece. And she’s in the middle of a Baby Shark phase.
Did I mention it pays really well?
Only about six times.
I might be able to shift the budget around a little to see if we can increase the offer.
He snickers as he shakes his head. Most people figure out that no means no by the time they turn two. I feel like you skipped over that lesson.
Oh, you have no idea how persuasive I can be, I say, crossing my arms defiantly. I’m willing to bet I can win you over.
Rudy tosses his head back and a mocking cackle rises up from his throat. Ha! If you do, I’ll even wear a reindeer costume for the show. He shakes his head in disbelief.
Deal, I say, holding out a hand.
He looks at me with hesitation before grabbing hold of my hand to shake on it. Don’t count on it, Emma. If I were you, I’d start looking for another band, because this isn’t happening.
What if you weren’t dressed up like Jack Sparrow right now? Would that have increased the odds of you saying yes? I ask, ignoring his snarky attitude.
Rudy’s sitting across from me wearing pirate’s clothing along with the captain’s signature wig, his eyes framed with black eyeliner. Which looks annoyingly great on him.
This jerk.
Just like our superintendent Mary told me when I first arrived in New York: there’s going to be a Halloween party on the roof tonight.
Even though it wasn’t Rudy’s idea and costume parties are low on his very short list of favourite activities, he’s still planning to go.
For Lauren. His sister is friends with one of the other tenants, and it sounds like they drag Rudy along every year.
He never goes willingly, of course, but it’s kind of impressive that she can even get him to go at all.
Maybe she can give me some pointers and help me convince him to play at the Christmas party.
Or maybe I can bribe her. It sounds like he’ll do almost anything for his sister.
Rudy looks up from his mie goreng with a grin. Emma, he says, costume or not . . . I refuse to perform at a Christmas party. He blows a strand of wig out of his face and sulks. This thing is so absurd.
Looks cute, though, I say in an encouraging tone. Where’s your rum?
Gone.
Fully in character. Perfect.
You know Lauren is going to make you come with us, right?
he says. She won’t care that you’re not dressed up.
Knowing her, she’ll give you a quick makeover and turn you into a clown with some lipstick and eyeliner.
Even though we both know you don’t need any makeup at all to look like a clown.
He gives me a sweet-as-pie grin and I shoot him a pissy glare before taking another bite of my gado-gado.
Since the incident involving a certain cat by the name of Gertrude and a meal that got burnt to a crisp, I’ve basically given up on cooking.
It’s obviously unnerving to prepare food in a building where ten pyromaniacs could enjoy their beloved pastime right beneath the smoke detectors without setting any of them off.
But I also just really like eating dinner with Rudy.
We’ve been ordering takeout every night and watching more Money Heist. We’re well into season three by now.
Setting his food aside, Rudy extends his arms up into a stretch. My back hurts, he complains.
His blousy shirt lifts a little at the waist to reveal a sliver of his toned abdomen. I look up again when he’s done stretching to find a highly amused look on his face and a twinkle in his eyes.
Clearly busted, I look away. A sore back, huh? That sucks, I’m quick to say. What happened?
It’s just being on my feet all day, he says, shrugging his shoulders. Not much to do about it. Unless you’re handing out free massages . . . He shoots me a cheeky grin and I’m about to politely decline when I’m saved by the doorbell.
Thank God.
Lauren is dressed like a pumpkin. She’s wearing black stilettos and leggings. Her torso is trapped inside a colossal orange ball with an evil face and there’s a little green stem on her hat.
You look great, Rudy, she tells her brother. But where’s that hat I bought you?
He rolls his eyes. That thing doesn’t fit right. I’m already wearing the wig—isn’t that enough?
No.
But—
Rudolph, she says in a menacing tone.
Ugh, fine. He walks over to his closet to grab a black, triangular hat that’s nearly identical to the one Jack Sparrow wore in Pirates of the Caribbean.
Your boss has you on a tight leash there, huh? I joke. It earns me a grouchy glare.
Don’t mess with Lauren at Halloween, he says, shaking his head as he puts on the hat.
Speaking of Halloween, Lauren jumps in. Where’s your costume, Emma?
Oh. Um . . . I don’t have one?
But it’s a Halloween party. The costume part is mandatory.
What if I just pull a crabby face, wear some eyeliner, and cut some holes in my jeans? I could go as Rudy, I suggest, returning the cheeky grin he gave me earlier.
Ha-bloody-ha, he grumps, but I can tell he’s struggling to hold back a laugh.
Good thing I always come prepared for this kind of situation, Lauren says as she rummages through her purse. She pulls out an oversized pair of black glasses with an enormous nose and moustache, then plops them onto my face.
Hot, Rudy comments dryly.
But Lauren is far from done. Grabbing a piece of paper from her purse, she scribbles a few words and sticks it to my chest.
There, she says, sounding proud.
I look down to see what she wrote. Bless you. I give her a quizzical look.
You’re a blessing in disguise, she explains, a warm smile on her face.
I hear Rudy laughing behind me, but I can’t help but give Lauren a quick hug and a thank you. I doubt anyone at the party will figure out what my costume is, especially not after multiple drinks, but it was still a really sweet thing to do.
Are you guys coming?
The voice belongs to Lauren’s tenant-friend standing in the hallway. This is my first time meeting her and she’s currently dressed up as a nurse. And not just any nurse—a sexy nurse.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rudy give her an admiring look.
She’s in a low-cut top and her skirt is so short that I can nearly see her—probably equally sexy—underwear.
Her lips are painted red and her long blonde tresses cascade down over her shoulders in loose waves.
As she takes in the sight of Rudy with her big, blue eyes, she gives him a crooked smile.
Crap.
Any random guy would happily get punched into intensive care for the chance to receive care from this gorgeous nurse. And I look like Mr. Potato Head.
Hey Kate. Jack Sparrow says in a friendly voice.
Rudy. She nods at him, but her eyes stay locked onto his face for just a little too long. I caught your show last Friday. You guys sound better every time.
Thank you.
The silence that follows can only be described as awkward. Rudy shuffles back and forth. Kate continues to stare at him. Lauren’s eyes dart between the two of them, her eyebrows raised high. And I . . . I suck in a huge breath and begin to babble like my life depends on it.
This is my first Halloween party ever, I declare with pride.
I suppose it’s kind of a thing in the Netherlands, but it’s hardly a big deal like it is here.
We do celebrate the Festival of Sint Maarten.
That’s probably the closest thing we have to Halloween.
Kids go door to door for candy, too, but they have to go the extra mile by singing instead of—
Touching a hand to my shoulder, Rudy puts me out of my misery.
Let’s go, he says, nodding at the open door.
We’re greeted from afar by the sound of Queen’s We Will Rock You. With Kate and Lauren paired up ahead of us, I’m walking side by side with my rum-less neighbour.
Where do you know her from? I ask lightly.
Rudy hesitates before answering. Does it matter?
I’m just being curious, I say with a shrug. That wasn’t exactly a standard casual greeting for someone who just lives in your building. Did you two date?
No.
Sex, then? The question just slips out as my mind drifts back to that noise disturbance next door that was clearly unrelated to music. I’m curious by nature. A little too curious. And I always end up gathering information I wish I could ungather.
Shaking his head, Rudy lets out a deep sigh. Just one time, he mutters. It was a mistake.
Oh . . . That, um . . . Oh. I’m not sure how to respond and I desperately try to ignore the pang of disappointment I feel.
I had too much to drink after one of our shows, he explains. I’d been trying to keep my distance because she and Lauren were really getting along and I didn’t want to screw over my sister like that.
Interesting choice of words, I snap and I immediately want to kick myself. Am I honestly pissed off because Rudy and Kate slept together once upon a time? Flirting and jealous glares aside, there’s absolutely nothing going on between us. Rudy and I have never even kissed.
Were you into her?
He chuckles. No. That’s why it was such a boneheaded move. He shrugs. Oh well. It’s in the past. Lauren’s over it by now and I’m pretty sure Kate is, too.
Are you? Over it? I pry again.
I mean, I was never under it in the first place, he laughs.
I raise my eyebrows at his answer. When he clues into what he just said, a blush appears on his cheeks. Pretty out of character for him.
Or at least . . . You know what I mean, he mumbles.