Stay (20 page)

There was a big tan saggy leather chair in the center of the room next to an end table stacked with coasters and scarred with drink rings.

“So, what do you think?” Louis said. “You want the house, I’ll throw in the magazines.” He was beaming. “It’s a good deal.”

“I’m sure Van likes the house, Louis,” Alex said, saving me from having to answer, “but we’re going to have to give her some time to think about it.”

“Yes, yes, we will. Patience,” Louis said, holding his index finger up as if he were telling himself.

After we ate the cake down to the crumbs, Louis slid an envelope across the table to me. “You like the house, this is the deal.” He winked.

I started to open the seal on the envelope.

“No, no, no!” Louis said, reaching across the table to get me to stop. “You open it later. I’ll get embarrassed.”

I folded the envelope over and slipped it in the back pocket of my jeans.

Alex poured me another cup of coffee and passed the milk, and I realized that the way I’d been feeling the day before wasn’t in my head. I really did belong.

I
had such a good time chatting with Louis and Alex that I almost forgot about the envelope, but as soon as we pulled out of the driveway, Alex said, “Go ahead, open it.”

I wriggled around in the seat trying to reach into my back pocket.

“What do you know about this?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” Alex asked, in mock surprise. “Just open it.”

The stitching on my jeans scratched my fingers as I pulled the envelope out. I opened it and pulled out a scrap of paper with 40K written on it in pencil.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“Not me, it’s Louis,” Alex said, shaking his head.

“What is he thinking?” I asked, and then realized it probably sounded rude. “I mean, does he know the house is worth more than twice that?”

“He knows,” Alex said. His eyes were crinkling up at the corners, and he was pursing his mouth up in a small smile. He kept his eyes on the road.

“But why?”

“The way he sees it-he bought the house for twenty thousand, so he’s doubled his money.”

“But what about inflation? When did he buy the house?”

“Midfifties?”

“So it cost like what, ten, fifteen cents for a loaf of bread? I mean, he didn’t really double his money, right?”

“Louis. This is just the way he is. Don’t feel like you have to buy it. Think about it. Okay?” He patted my thigh, and I let myself think that maybe it wasn’t so casual.

“Is there more to think about? It’s a house for forty thousand.”

“Well, there’s that.”

“Joe would have a yard. The room with all the bookshelves would make a good office.”

“Speaking of a good office, you’re self- employed, right?”

“How did you know that?” Of all the things we’d talked about, I was pretty sure my job hadn’t come up.

“I read your file,” he said, softly.

“My file?”

“The paperwork you filled out when you brought Joe in.”

“You’ve been researching me.”

“Yes.” He flinched dramatically, like it was paining him to admit it, or he was bracing for the aftermath.

“No fair. When do I get paperwork on you?”

“Ms. Leone, do you ever answer questions about yourself?”

“Dr. Brandt, I’m a grant writer.”

“A grant writer?”

“Yes.”

“What is a grant writer?” he asked in his best reporter voice.

“I write grants.” I smiled and played along, giving him my best interview answers.

“Well, yeah, but how does that work, smarty-pants?”

“I get paid to research and write proposals for organizations.”

“So people pay you to write requests for money.”

“Basically.”

“How did you get into that?”

“One of my professors did a lot of grant work on the side. She hooked me up with some people. It was supposed to be until I found a real job, but then it took off.”

“That’s awesome,” Alex said, losing the reporter voice.

“Actually, I’d love to pick your brain a bit.”

“Pick away.”

“I’m working on a proposal for the expansion of an equine rehab facility in North Carolina. I could use your help with some of the medical terms. It’s like they speak a different language. I have to look up everything they say.”

“I have some time now, if you want me to translate.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.” He flashed me his killer smile.

He looked back at the road. I slid Louis’s slip of paper back in the envelope.

“So who is Louis?” I asked.

Alex gave me a mock blank look. “You just-the guy in the suit?” “No, I mean who is he to you? How do you know him?”

“Had me worried there a second,” Alex said, laughing.

“You knew what I meant.”

“Yeah, I did,” he confessed. “Louis was my grandfather’s best friend. And he raised my dad.” He said it like that was the end of the story.

“How did that happen?” I asked, leaning my head against the car seat.

“They were buddies in Korea, and they made a pact that if one of them didn’t make it back, the other one would take care of things . . .” Alex trailed off as he made a left into traffic.

“So, your grandfather died in the war?”

“No, they both made it back. They bought houses on the same street and everything.” He laughed. “They were quite a pair, from what my grandmother said. Always pulling pranks on each other. Two years later, my grandfather died in a car accident, and Louis told my grandmother the pact still stood. He helped with bills, fixed stuff around the house.” Alex kept his eyes on the road. “He acted like my dad was his own kid. My dad even wanted me to call Louis ‘Grandpa,’ but Louis wouldn’t have it. Said it didn’t honor the right person. So he’s just Louis.”

“It must be really nice to have a Louis,” I said, smoothing the envelope out against my thigh.

“Everyone should be lucky enough to have a Louis,” Alex said.

Joe barked at us when we opened the front door. He was used to me coming in through the garage, and being alone. The fur around his face was disheveled and his eyes were barely open.

“Looks like we woke you up, Mr. Joe.” Alex bent down and scratched behind Joe’s ear.

“So, Joe’s a German Shepherd, right?” I asked.

“Right.”

“But why does he have long fur like that?”

“It’s a long stock coat.” Alex ran his fingers through Joe’s fur. “Some people call it a plush coat. It’s like some people have blue eyes, and some have brown. Genetics.” When he stood up, he made my living room look smaller. He was so tall that he was out of scale with my furniture, like putting a He-Man action figure in a dollhouse.

He stood so close to me and all of a sudden, I got nervous. Really nervous. This guy liked me. This amazing, sweet, kind, funny guy liked me. The benefit of being in love with someone who was with someone else was that I never had to honestly face him with all those feelings. They were hidden and secret and protected. But Alex liked me, and it was okay for me to like him back. I didn’t know what do with myself. I didn’t know how to act. I felt like my knees were going to quit on me. “I can go get that grant,” I mumbled, backing away from Alex. I started walking up the stairs. He followed and Joe stayed downstairs so he could go back to napping on the couch.

I looked back over my shoulder at Alex on my way up the stairs. He flashed me his big crooked smile.

“It’s kind of messy.” I tried to picture the state of my office. I couldn’t remember how I’d left it, but I knew it wasn’t good.

“I don’t care.”

“I might.” I shrugged my shoulders up toward my ears.

“Don’t.” Alex put his hand on my waist and gave it a squeeze.

I tried not to think about my back fat. After he pulled his hand back I sucked in my stomach so if he did it again I’d be ready.

He followed me up to the door. I peeked in and did a quick scan of the room. It wasn’t too bad. The paper shredder was overflowing, gum wrappers were piled up on my desk in mounds like raked leaves, and there were three coffee cups by the monitor, but the carpet was fairly clean and most of my paperwork piles were neatly stacked.

“Wow,” Alex said, walking in behind me.

“I know, it’s a mess.” I hoped he wasn’t one of those people who was obsessed with order.

“No. This.” Alex pointed to the whiteboard that covered the wall next to my desk. “What is it?”

“I diagram my grants.”

He gave me a blank look.

“See, I take all the requirements for the grant and put them up on the board.” I walked over and pointed at the board. “Then when I do research and fill things in, I can check off what I’ve covered.” I felt like a spokes-model showing him the points I’d already covered.

Alex came over and stood next to me, very close. He tipped his head to the side and wrinkled up his forehead. He was really trying to figure it out, not just being polite. No one else ever understood my work, or even tried to. Peter, Janie, and Diane all acted like I was practically unemployed just because I worked flexible hours and often in my pajamas. It was nice to be taken seriously for a change.

I looked at him, and he looked back at me. I thought maybe he would kiss me, but then his face turned red and he moved over to read the next column on the board.

“It’s probably really boring.” I walked over to the desk, gathered up the pile of gum wrappers closest to the keyboard, and shooed them into the trash can.

“Not at all,” Alex said, putting his hand on my shoulder to pull me back to the board. I loved the way his hand felt on my back. I loved the way he smelled like laundry detergent. My daydreams about Peter always involved us having these extravagant lives, but standing in my office with Alex and talking about work was suddenly the most romantic thing I could imagine. He was interested in me. He respected me. It was far more romantic than the Mediterranean Sea at sunset. It was real.

Alex grabbed an orange marker and put a star next to the rehab exerciser. “There’s an exerciser that’s closer to a treadmill.”

He was standing really close again. I took a deep breath. I couldn’t believe this was happening. This tall, handsome scarecrow was standing in my office, marking up my board.

“It doesn’t cost as much as other exercisers.” Alex kept the marker on the star. His brow furrowed when he was concentrating. It was really sexy. “So if they went with that, the extra money could go to the trailer.” He drew a line over to the line that read
Transport Trailer—No Money
and made another star.

“Thank you,” I said, looking up at him, nodding my head like I’d actually been paying attention instead of wondering if he was ever going to kiss me. “This is great.”

“So are you,” he said, looking into my eyes. He laughed and covered his face with his hand. “I’m sorry, that was really lame, huh?”

I realized that he was nervous too, and it made me like him even more. “Works for me,” I said, quietly.

We stared at each other for a minute, and then Alex leaned in and kissed me. He put his hand on my neck just under my chin. We stumbled, lips locked, until my back was against the wall. His lips were soft and there was the slightest scratch of his stubble against my cheek. All that stupid movie talk of fireworks or stars in your eyes or falling head over heels-that kiss made me get it. I felt it in every inch of my body. He pulled away and looked at me.

“Wow,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said, feeling like my head might never be able to form cognitive thoughts ever again, and I was completely okay with that.

Alex’s eyes widened. “Oh, crap!” he said, pointing behind me.

I turned around and realized that we’d erased half my board with my back.

“I’m so sorry!” he said. “I didn’t mean to mess up your board.”

“As long as you’re not sorry you kissed me,” I said. My cheeks flushed.

“Not the least little bit,” he said, brushing my hair out of my face. “But is your work okay?”

“It’s fine. I have copies of what was up there.” I grabbed a packet off my desk and handed it to him. “The list of definitions I need to look up is on the last page.”

“I’ll write them in for you,” he said, flipping through the pages.

“Thank you. That’ll save me so much time.”

“My pleasure.” He rolled the report into a tube and shoved it in his back pocket. He slid his hands into his front pockets and rolled forward on his feet. “Since you’ll have some free time now, do you think I could take you out to dinner tomorrow?”

“I think you could,” I said, smiling.

Before he left, he wrapped his arms around me again, and we stood in the doorway kissing until Joe barked at us.