Too Real Estate #2
He lifts his head, looking at me carefully. “That’s why you’ve been so stressed?” His voice hardens. “Wait, you knew this
was happening?”
It’s the hurt in his eyes. The hurt I’ve caused.
My heartbeat pounds in my ears. “Sami, I’m so sorry, I—”
“Sorry? Please don’t blame yourself, Mona.” He comes around the counter and pries my fingers from the edge of the counter, which
I didn’t even register I’d begun to clench so tightly, the knuckles were turning white. He holds my hands between his, warm
and steady. “You’ve been doing everything to help with the building. I can’t imagine how you must’ve felt when you found out
it was selling.”
It’s now, I have to come clean now.
I swallow, my throat a dry desert. “Sami, I . . .”
His hands hold mine tighter. The warmth pools and fills me up.
I can’t do it. I can’t risk it. No matter how sorry I am. No matter how much I want to take back everything I did. Because
no matter how much I try to earn it, forgiveness is never guaranteed.
I can’t lose him.
I adjust our grip so our fingers intertwine. “I have a plan that could help Irene keep the property, but in order to do that
Northern Property Management would have to pull out.”
His brow furrows. “They won’t do that. All they care about is the land.”
I point to Sami’s sign on the door. “The city hearings. We should all go to the meeting and make some noise. Gather as many
of the people as possible to voice our concerns. If they can’t get a permit to build, the land is useless.”
“It’s a nice idea.” He looks down at our hands, frowning. “But Northern Property Management is the Goliath. I’m sure they’re practically writing their own permits by now.” He lets out a huff. “Maybe we should just have that steak
and enjoy this place before it all falls apart?”
I’ve never seen him look this defeated. “Excuse me? What have you done with Sami?”
A hint of a grin cuts through. “I’ve been spending a bit of time with this girl who used to be really practical, logical,
and knew the value of time blocking. Guess she rubbed off on me.”
“Well, be that as it may, I think it’ll still be worthwhile. Northern Property Management is huge, yes. But I know big companies like this. They want the easy, low-hanging fruit. If we can get the city to hear us out—even if
it’s just a brief delay, I think we could turn Northern Property Management off the sale. They won’t want to get involved
with costly holdups when there are easier fish to fry.”
Sami lets go of my hands to put his palms on my shoulders. “See, that’s why I need to hear your logic. It can outlogic my
logic.”
I grab either side of his torso and clench the fabric of his apron, pulling him closer. “Let’s show these fucks who they’re
playing ball with.”
“That’s a lot of heart there, kid.” His eyes are full of far too much admiration.
But if I can save the building—then it’ll all be okay. And I can finally deserve it.
I have no other choice but to believe it.
Heads turn as our parade of tenants approaches the building where the development meeting is being held.
Since it’s only a couple of blocks away from Valleyview Apartments, we decided to meet in the lobby on Monday afternoon, just before the meeting, and walk over together.
We perfected the plan over the weekend. I have broken up the concerns for us to bring up into categories: supporting infrastructure; traffic issues; small community feel; construction impact on business; historic building preservation,
etc. I’ve also given everyone a loose set of talking points based on the direction they want to go. It took several hours
to gather and prepare everyone, but I’m buzzing with energy and several of Sami’s coffees as we march down the block.
I’m in my favorite navy suit set and nude heels. Something I haven’t worn in weeks. I feel more myself than I have in ages—I’m
so back.
We’ve got Carmen in his fucking Wranglers leading the way with Lorna, whose head keeps bobbing as she giggles at whatever
he’s saying to her; I bet he’s going to be pouring her a Fanta by night’s end. Sami’s walking behind me with Norm, who looks
like he’s finding the willpower to take every step, but his face is set with determination. I can’t believe how far he’s come
from the guy I saw during the fire alarm a few weeks ago. Mr. and Mrs. Chaudhry (Uniform Family’s parents) are next in the
line. By my side, Jane is sporting a flowery jumpsuit. Sami even managed to round up the owners of a few other surviving local
businesses to round out our procession.
The path we’ve been walking is familiar to me. It’s the same route I take to Westmore Communications, whose office is right
across the street.
When we round the corner and stop at the crosswalk, Jane, who took the afternoon off for this, nudges me. “Bet you haven’t
seen that barista’s butt cheeks in a while. Don’t tell me you didn’t miss him the most during your leave.”
I follow her gaze to the coffee shop I used to frequent during my lunch breaks. On the patio, the barista is serving customers,
his booty pinched tight in Lululemon leggings in all their muscular glory.
“The view is weirdly taking me back,” I say as he leans over a little more than is necessary to distribute drinks to a table.
Jane and I both trail him with our eyes as he walks inside—only, I stop short as I lock eyes with Corbin.
He’s exiting the coffee shop with a to-go cup.
He meets my gaze with an expression that can only be described as horrified surprise.
He breaks my stare and turns to mutter something over his shoulder.
Behind him, Olivia and Lisa are walking out too, drinks in hand.
My heart stops as the other two of my best friends’ eyes crawl toward me—as they register the group I’m walking with. As they
quickly divert their gazes.
Olivia’s mouth moves, and it’s like I can hear their comments without actually hearing them. After years of being part of their pod, I know how they operate. Right on cue, Corbin throws his head back and laughs.
These people—my best friends. Or at least, I truly believed they were. But cutting me off when I was struggling, trying to
sabotage me—that’s not just healthy competition. It’s messed up, actually. It’s not even hurt I feel. It’s shame. Because a few weeks ago, I was just like them.
“Hey, Jane.” I nudge closer, the comforting scent of her shampoo crawling its way to me. “Those are my friends I haven’t seen
in a while. I’ll catch up in time for the meeting.”
“Sure.” But she gives me an uncertain glance. To be fair, the last time I said I was popping out for a minute, I missed the
rest of our town hall about the rec room. I give her shoulder a brief, reassuring squeeze, then head to the intersection.
Corbin, Olivia, and Lisa are huddled in a tight circle chatting as I force my feet to keep stepping across the street. When
I approach them, they don’t seem to notice—even though I know they all saw me heading this way.
“Hey, guys,” I say, a bit louder than is probably necessary.
Their heads whip toward me in unison. Olivia’s eyes go wide, but her smile is bright as her eyes flicker from Corbin to Lisa. An unspoken conversation is passing between them. I know this silent language too well not to hear the million screams buried beneath it.
These people haven’t seen me in weeks, and the first thing Corbin says is “Was that the IT guy from our office?” His tone
has the lift of a joke, and Lisa giggles on cue, playing her part.
I turn to watch the group of weirdo tenants making their way up the block. “Good memory! That’s Norm. He’s a friend from my
apartment building. In fact, they all are.”
Again, their eyes connect, a silent conversation passing between them. It’s almost too predictable, the snide remarks they’re
likely banking for later.
“Are you excited to come back to the office next week?” Lisa asks.
“Yeah, is your, uh . . . was it your mom? Is she okay now?” Corbin’s voice is perfectly chipper as he lifts his coffee to
take a sip.
Olivia’s pasted-on smile is borderline vulgar.
I can’t believe I used to be so desperate for these people’s approval that I couldn’t even tell them the truth. That I allowed
myself to be friends with people who would hold my hardest moments against me as soon as I left the room.
“Yeah,” I say, just as chipper as Corbin was. “She’s doing much better. I am too.”
“That’s really great, Mon!” Olivia’s forced smile is so fake. How did I never see it? “We’re glad to have you back.”
The other two nod in agreement like NPCs.
“Although it’s going to be a rough return.” I look down at my hands, frowning. “In fact, I spoke to Carolyne just this morning
about the state of some of my files. It wasn’t a great conversation, as you can imagine.”
I wince and glance up from beneath my lashes. Honestly, the smirk Olivia is holding back is more authentic than any of the smiles she’s ever given me.
I nod toward my new friends who are gathering on the lawn outside the building. “It’s handy being friends with IT. I had Norm
over there look into the errors on my files that were recently discovered. It looks like many of them trace back to your computer,
Olivia.”
Olivia’s mouth falls open. “Mona, I—”
I cut her off. “Better keep your phone handy. I’m sure Carolyne will be following up with you any minute now.”
Olivia is frozen. Her expression flickers—first horror, then sharp, simmering anger. I used to think she and I were the most
alike in the office, both of us clawing our way up from humble beginnings, driven by the same relentless hunger. Maybe she
regrets letting it come to this. Maybe she doesn’t. Either way, I realize, I don’t care anymore.
“Well, I need to catch up with my friends over there,” I say. “We have a very important meeting. Looking forward to seeing
you guys next week—although I’ll probably have to miss Tuesday drinks.”
Before any of them can answer, I turn on my heel and stomp back up the block, making each step loud and deliberate, like I’m