“Some sourpuss that lives on the fourth floor. Absolutely could not understand,” he circles Katherine’s bedroom, keen gaze noting all the details, “why they wouldn’t let him into his apartment.”
Relief trickles through me. Why did my brain immediately go into fight or flight?
Something to discuss with Doctor Morales next week.
Voices in the other room draw my attention. “The more we can get out of here, the better,” I tell Adrian, then head into the living room and find a barista-looking dude lifting a wilted leaf.
“It’s okay,” he croons to the sad plant. “Daddy’s here. We’ll get you fixed right up. An aloe bath and a bit of fertilizer?—”
He stops mid-sentence, glancing over at me.
“Simon?” Who else would be talking to a plant like it’s a kitten?
He straightens. “You must be Gabriel Rothburn.”
I can’t tell if he actually doesn’t recognize me or if it’s an act. Either way, I nod because I need his help. Katherine’s beloved collection needs his help.
“This is so dreadful.” He waves a hand at the ceiling and then hoists the potted plant up onto his hip as if it were a toddler.
“Yeah. It’s a mess. I was hoping you could help by moving Katherine’s plants.” Glancing at the one in his hands, I add, “Some of them need attention, and she’s away right now.”
He pauses from inspecting a leaf. “Where will they go?”
That’s a loaded question. And I’m not sure of the correct answer, so I go for diplomatic. “For now, a brownstone with a back garden that I think you’ll like.”
He perks up a tiny bit at that, then pulls a little flip phone from his pocket. “We’re gonna need boxes, carts, cars, and more hands.”
Clearly on a mission, he strides past me and investigates another shelf of foliage as he makes a phone call. “Bonnie, bring the van. Kat’s place is tragic. And boxes. As many as you can fit.”
Interesting guy.
It feels good to be in control again. Making decisions rather than letting disquiet get the best of me. If I just keep working away at the bugs, things are bound to get better.
“Cancel my afternoon,” I say to Adrian, returning to the bedroom, ready to finish packing.
“Already done.”
34
ALEX
This all feels wrong.
The late May sun leans toward the horizon, the shadows between the skyscrapers lingering a bit longer. The cellphone in my hand buzzes with a notification, and I lift it to read King’s latest text.
Kingston: yeah. Flying home tomorrow. You missing us?
I can see his goofy half smile in my mind and grunt because how the hell do I miss a man I’ve only known for a few weeks?
Kingston: you do, don’t you? You can say it.
Kingston: I mean, type it. beaming face with smiling eyes emoji
Rolling my eyes, I toss my phone on my desk because he’s not wrong. I’m tempted to give in and tell him I do miss them.
And would they please get their asses home already.
Running a hand over the back of my neck, I try to ease the tension there. It’s hard to focus when they’re halfway around theworld. And it’s increasingly frustrating to have such a massive chasm between me and Gabe. I never thought I’d be the one to pull everyone back together.