Thirty-Eight Days (5 page)

She poured the spaghetti sauce over the mince and let it simmer. Clara walked over and sat down on the couch, resting her feet on the coffee table in front of her. Liam was a phase, the after effects of her failed relationship. There would be no derailing in the arms of her neighbour. She would need to stay away. His bed was not somewhere she wanted to lay.

T
he blistering Melbourne heat was starting to make Noel sweat. Even in the back of the taxi he wished for the air conditioner to be cooler. He was twenty minutes from Clara’s, and he was starting to rehearse what he would say to her. No matter how much he’d rather not stay with Clara, he promised he would, and he wasn’t willing to break his word, especially not to Alex.

He missed it. He missed the smell, the architecture, and everything about Melbourne. Boston was beautiful in its own right, but this was home for him. He couldn’t make Boston his home. He had been alone since his move from New York. He was away from his best friend and even further away from his parents and brother. Boston just held his career.

Noel knew the only thing that would make him leave the U.S. would be his own family, a wife and children. He would make anywhere his home if he had them. But Boston didn’t deliver. He had countless women in his bed, but none held his interest long enough for him to ask for more.

The closest thing to his vision of his potential future was his high school girlfriend, Valerie
.
They were best defined as high school sweethearts. But Noel left Val behind. He had left her for Stanford and for her to fall in love with other men.

When he got out of the taxi, Noel handed his fare over to the driver and retrieved his bag from the boot. A bright smile developed on the driver’s face at the tip Noel had given him. He forgot that in Australia, workers didn’t rely on tips. The yellow taxi did a U-turn at the end of the street and drove back towards the CBD. He looked at the street and realised that it wasn’t the right address. It was filled with Victorian period homes, and not a single apartment in sight.

Great!

He reached into his pocket and took out his phone. Looking at Alex’s message, he saw that he had told the taxi driver the wrong address. Noel stood underneath the sign of Fairmount Street. In his quick skim of the message he had read the “St” as a street instead of Saint Fairmount Boulevard.

Noel looked at the maps on his phone to see that Clara’s apartment building was only a few blocks away. He knew it wouldn’t be an easy ten-minute walk. It was Australia in October; summer was closing in, and he knew this was decent temperature before unpredictable Melbourne weather came crashing in.

When Noel arrived at Harringtons Apartments, he was sweating and out of breath. He hadn’t prepared himself for lugging his bag around in the heat.

He wiped away the beads of sweat from his forehead with his arm and walked through the gates. Looking at the apartment building, he noticed that it was in a secure and impressive neighbourhood. He suspected Alex had a say in where she lived.

“Hey mate, need a hand?” Noel looked to see a tall man just younger than him start to approach him with a bag of rubbish in one hand.

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks, man.” Noel waved.

“No worries,” the man replied as he took the bag of rubbish to a small, green bin to the side of the building.

“Moving in?” the man asked as he dusted his hands together and approached Noel.

“You could say that. Staying at a mate’s. You live here?” Noel asked, inspecting the building. The structure looked early Victorian. It had been remodeled to fit the expanding modern settings of Melbourne. The remodeling, however, didn’t take away the building’s period charm.

“Yeah, I’m on the seventh floor,” the stranger replied to Noel. “You’ll like it here. But here’s a bit of advice about the building. Careful of the family on the third floor; their kids can yell at the top of their lungs, but they’re all funny characters. Old lady Hilda on the first floor likes to have a conversation in the lobby, but she’s harmless. Oh, and the roommates on the fifth floor are nothing compared to the beautiful brunette on the
sixth
floor. Trust me, I’ve seen a lot of women, but the one on sixth is just...”

Noel watched as the man shook his head and laughed.

“Why am I telling you about her for? I shouldn’t be announcing the most beautiful woman
lives on the sixth floor to a stranger. If I had any shot at being with her, I think I’ve lost it to you. I’m Liam,” he said, putting forward a hand to Noel.

“Noel.” He put his hand in Liam’s and shook.

“You seem to be really into that girl,” Noel said, very intrigued.

“Yeah,” Liam laughed. “For almost a year. I've tried to get her attention, but no luck.” He shrugged his shoulders at Noel.

Liam was easy on the eyes; Noel could tell women fancied him. He found it funny to see Liam get worked up about the threat he posed when it came to the brunette. Noel knew the look of a guy in love, and Liam was definitely in love with the brunette he described.

“Anyway, I have to get my ass down to the gym. We should grab a beer with your mate sometime before you leave.”

“Don’t think my mate is the sort to drink, but I’m up for beer. Any time sounds good to me,” Noel said.

Liam gave him an approving nod before patting his shoulder and giving Noel a “See ya” as he walked passed towards the parking garage.

He entered the building through the glass double doors of the Harringtons Apartments. The lobby had a large chandelier in the center of the room that reflected the sun’s rays perfectly. The man behind the counter looked like he was in his forties; his jacket was flung on the back of his chair and his white shirt had sweat marks from the heat. A small counter fan blew in front of the man’s face. If Noel thought he had a terrible job, he didn’t anymore. He was thankful that the sight of this man at work wasn’t what he did for a living.

“Welcome to the Harringtons. How may I assist you today, sir?” The man rose from his chair and beads of sweat ran from his face.

“I’m here to see Clara Lawrence,” Noel said, sounding more disgusted than he would have liked. The man fumbled with a few papers and looked confused at the list of names in front of him.

“Ah, yes. Miss Lawrence is on the sixth floor, apartment 6B,” he said as he straightened the paper in his hand so he could read it properly.

“Thanks,” Noel replied as he grabbed his bag and went to the elevator. Once inside, he pressed the number six button on the panel and waited till it reached Clara’s floor.

As he stood in the empty elevator, something in his brain clicked. Clara lived on the same floor as the woman Liam was describing. Maybe he could bump into her when he went out for a morning jog or when she took out her rubbish. Noel shook his head. He had to remind himself that Liam was
in
love with her. She was off limits.

He knew there was no harm in looking. Noel realised that the brunette would think that he had something with Clara, and that meant he didn’t stand a chance. When the elevator opened to Clara’s floor, Noel couldn’t help but scan the corridor. He looked to see if there were any hints of where the brunette lived. He could knock and introduce himself to all of the tenants of the sixth floor, but they would think he was a scammer and call the cops.

Noel took sight of
6B and walked towards the door. He could always just leave. She didn’t know Alex wasn’t coming, so what were the chances she knew he’d be at her doorstep? He could just say he went to Clara’s, but Noel was here, and he already had an invested interest in her brunette neighbour.

Taking a deep and long breath of air, he had to make sure he was ready to face Clara. He had to force his unwilling hand to form a fist and knock on the white door. He only heard the sounds of a faint TV that sounded like it had been left on.

She isn’t home. I can sneak out and look for a hotel.

“Hang on a second,” he heard a soft voice yell. Clara was home. He had barely been in the country long and he had been left disappointed and frustrated. Noel was already regretting being back home. Now he had to wait for Clara to open the door and ruin his life.

Taking another look around the corridor, he tried to guess the apartment the brunette lived in. When the door to 6B opened, he was stunned; his breath caught in his throat, his heart started to race, and his hands began to sweat. Before him in a pastel pink dress was a brunette beauty; she was beyond anything he had ever laid eyes on.

It was then that he knew why Liam didn’t want him to know about her; she was beautiful. Her hair graced past her shoulders in long curls. She had little makeup on, highlighting her soft, golden-brown eyes. Noel was literally breathless by her beauty.

However, her eyes reflected differently than to what he would have liked. She looked frightened and shocked to see him at her front door. The man at the counter must have given him the wrong apartment. By some sort of miracle, the universe gave him the brunette’s apartment and not Clara’s.

She continued to stare with feared expressions and Noel continued to observe and take in her beauty.

I need to say something... anything.

“Hey, I’m sorry it looks like the man at the counter gave me the wrong apartment,” Noel said after an exchange of looks. The confused one on her face was one he liked.

She’s cute when she pulls that face.

“Excuse me?” she replied after a minute of silence. Her voice was a soft yell, but she had an irritated tone.

“I’m actually here to see my best friend’s sister that somehow needs babysitting. I’d rather jump off a cliff into a sea of sharks than see her, but I have to. But it seems I’m at the wrong apartment because I know she could never pull off a dress like yours.” He laughed, hoping she would, too.

Her face looked down to inspect her dress and then made their way back up to him. Their eyes met, but her eyes reflected anger and irritation. He waited for her to reply, but instead Noel watch as the door slammed in front of his face. If he had been a little closer, like he wished he had, he would have a broken nose. He stood there stunned and confused.

She didn’t know Clara, did she?

He never mentioned her name, so he had no answer for the door slamming in his face. Noel put it down to her not liking him making fun of another woman. He was already breathless from her beauty, but her gutsy personality had him wanting more. Clara would have to wait. He needed to know the brunette’s name, and he needed to know everything about her. He knocked again and waited a minute until she opened the door.

“Look, I didn’t mean to insult you or anything. I’m all for feminism, but I was joking. Sharks aren’t necessary at the bottom of that hypothetical cliff. If I’m honest, I’d probably just drown, but there was no need to slam the door in my face. We should at least get to know each other since we’ll be neighbours. I’m Noel,” he said as he stuck out his hand towards her.

She looked at his hand in disgust, and he was sure Liam had never seen this side of her before. She let out a few breaths of air as if it calmed her. When she finally opened her eyes, Noel could see her golden eyes darken a fraction. With her firm stare not leaving his, he could see the fire burning deep within her eyes.

“I’m Clara, you asshole!” she yelled at him, and slammed the door in his face again.

Oh, shit!

Noel stood there in shock, his jaw falling to the ground. Clara couldn’t possibly be the beautiful brunette. She couldn’t. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen was his best friend’s little sister. The golden brown eyes that made him want to know her and be with her belonged to Clara. The woman that made his heart race, knocked the air out of him, and make him sweat in nerves was Clara Lawrence.

Five years had changed Clara. She turned out to be the most beautiful woman in the world. He screwed up. Badly. Clara turned out beautiful and breathtaking. She had eyes that made Noel want to stare into them forever. He needed to have a chance at making her change her first impressions of him. He wanted to know Clara, every single inch of her. But then realisation crept into him.