Chapter 16: Cal

Chapter Sixteen

CAL

" I 'm going to make sure that Harlow doesn't get lost, Aunt Gia. I'll be back shortly."

"The food will be cold," she scolds.

"Put our plates in a warming drawer," I tell Nelson.

There is no one in the hallway. I jog down to the bathroom, but that too is empty. Nelson passes me on my way toward the dining room. I snag him. "Have you seen Harlow?"

"I've not. She said she was on her way to the restroom."

"She's not there." At Nelson's blank look, I shake my head. "Never mind."

I ping her phone. She doesn't answer. Damn it. I should have gotten her to allow me to track her location. I text Karen to let her know that I won't be returning.

Harlow fell ill. I'm taking her home.

Aunt Gia is not going to like this.

Be a peach and smooth things over.

I pocket my phone and arrow toward the front door. She's not the type to wander about the house, and if she was lost, someone would have notified Nelson. That means she left, and if she left, something bad must have happened.

I drive straight to The Grand, where Gertie meets me at the door. "I heard you were looking into buying the actual property," she accuses, her small body blocking my entrance.

"I'm looking into a lot of properties," I hedge.

"Not this one. We're not for sale." She slams the door in my face.

"Fuck." I call Harlow again. No answer. I hate bothering Trident on Saturday night, but I have no choice. My finger is pressed to the button when Harlow appears at the outer gate. I run toward her and catch her up in my arms. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, Cal, what are you doing here?" She sounds full of despair.

"Looking for you. Where else would I be?"

"At home, with your family, not with me. I'm a loser, Cal. You wouldn't know what that means because you've never once in your life been in this position, but this is me. I'm a girl with nothing. No family, no home, no job." She tries to push away, but I'm not having it.

"Whoa whoa, what do you mean no home, no job?"

"I got fired yesterday. I meant to tell you—or maybe I didn't. Maybe I thought I could live in a pretend world where everything was fine, we'd get married. The co-op board would approve my ownership. I'd get cleared by the CCTV, and the sky would rain roses and hundred-dollar bills."

Her mascara runs down her cheeks like dirt streaks on a windshield. I wipe them off with my thumbs and pull her close. Her shoulders shake as her tears leak through my shirt. Fuck. I want to ruin someone, but she doesn't need my anger right now. I lift her in my arms and walk through the lobby doors of The Grand. Gertie opens her mouth to protest but shuts it at my warning look. Now's not the time to fuck with me.

Back at Harlow's apartment, I settle her on the sofa and cover her with a blanket.

"You must think I'm worthless." She swipes at her eyes.

"Because you cry? How do those two things correlate?"

"I should be taking action, sending out résumés, bribing the board members, doing stuff."

"It's Saturday night. No one is interested in your résumé or your bribes. Here." I hand her a tissue box. "I'm going to make you something hot to drink."

She struggles to her feet. "I can make my own hot drink."

"If you don't let me do this, I'm going to throw a tantrum, and no one wants to see a grown man doing that. It would humiliate the both of us. For the sake of my ego and my manhood, please go back to the sofa."

She makes a face but does as I ask. I text Nelson for a recipe for hot chocolate. He sends me one immediately, along with "Shall I pass along a message to Madame?"

Because I want Harlow to be accepted by the family, I know the apologies will need to come straight from me, not through Nelson. I reply back "I'm calling her right now."

"Aunt Gia, it's me. Before you dress me down, let me apologize."

"Should you be the one apologizing or should someone else?"

"Me," I say firmly. "Harlow had some bad news and had to come home to deal with it. I'm here with her now. I know that this made a mess of your dinner, and I want to make it up to you. What do I need to do?" I find some cocoa powder and sugar in the cupboard and milk in the refrigerator. She even has a small bottle of vanilla.

"This dinner was for you to introduce Harlow to the family. I don't think she made a good impression."

"Twenty relatives is a lot for a first meeting."

Aunt Gia sniffs. "We're a big family."

"Harlow's alone in this world, Auntie. She lost her grandmother. Her mother isn't around, and her father, I don't think she knows where her father is. She only has me, but when we marry, I'm hoping she will have you, too."

There's a long stretch of silence from Aunt Gia's end. I spend that time whisking the cocoa and sugar into the heated milk. When it's at the right temperature, which according to Nelson is when bubbles start appearing on the surface, I pull the pan off the stove and add the vanilla. As I'm pouring the concoction into a mug, Aunt Gia finally sighs.

"You won't give in, will you?"

"No."

"Can I at least have a church wedding? Everyone wants an excuse to dress up, and weddings are the perfect occasion for dresses, hats, and jewels. Don't deprive us of this."

"I would never dream of ruining your fun, Aunt Gia. You may have any kind of event you like so long as it happens in a week. I have to go now. Harlow's hot chocolate is getting cold."

I hang up so I don't have to hear the cries that my timeline is inhumane. Also, the drink is getting cold. I carry the mug into the living room and present it as if I just created the finest dessert ever baked. "From scratch," I say proudly.

"I have hot cocoa mix in the cupboard," Harlow tells me as she accepts my offering.

"What is the fun in that? This is Nelson's recipe, by the way, so you'll have to lie to him if you don't like it."

"I like it," she says, taking a sip.

"I made it so I'm going to accept that as a compliment for me." I reach over my shoulder and pat myself on the back.

That earns me a small smile.

"Now tell your husband-to-be all about your troubles so we can fix them and plan our wedding."

She sets down the cup. I feel like that's a bad sign.

"We should give this up."

"I don't like where this is going." I pick the mug back up. Our conversation seemed better when she was drinking the hot chocolate.

"I hired you for the week because I thought this would be over in a week, and it is, but not in the way I expected. I got fired because Mavis believes Stacy, so me requesting the CCTV was outrageous. Then I got a video of Mindy with some random guy except he wasn't random. It was Rick, the man I was supposed to meet the day you sat down at my table, so she knows that it's all a lie."

This explains Gertie's cold response at the door, too. She probably thinks I'm trying to take over the entire property, which wasn't exactly wrong. Harlow wanted to keep her home, and I want what Harlow wants.

"Mavis is a shit boss." I push the mug into Harlow's hands. "Your company is one that I looked at acquiring, but it's a personnel mess. I'm not saying you should be happy you got fired because that's a shitty feeling, but you shouldn't use that as a measure of your skill or abilities when your boss is a shit boss. As for your home, you're going to have it."

"How?"

She's still holding the mug. Why I'm fixated on that, I'm not sure. "Because we're meant to be. I would never have gone to that restaurant, but Aunt Gia saw on social media these special soufflé pancakes they make and had to have a plate. I saw you and knew that you were the one for me. Things are just meant to be." I shrug and nudge the mug closer to her mouth.

She presses her lips to the side but doesn't take a sip—yet.

"I can buy into insta-attraction, but marrying me? Seems extreme. There have to be better fish out there. Ones with jobs and a good family. No extra baggage."

"I doubt it. Everyone has baggage. It's the extra stuff that makes you interesting. Drink up. The hot chocolate is getting cold." She takes a small drink. I view that as a win. We're getting married. End of story. "Monday I'll get the marriage license."

"You'd think I was pregnant and my dad was standing on the other side of you with a shotgun."

"Instead, I'm the one forcing you to the altar. It'll be a fun story to tell our children. Now that we've solved that problem, what do you want to do about Mavis? I can buy the company and you can fire everyone. We can get lawyers to sue for the CCTV footage and then sue for wrongful termination."

"Walk away." She sits up and places the mug on the coffee table. "I want to walk away. From everything. I'm going to sell the apartment and use the money to set up my own ad agency. That solves all of my problems. I don't have to worry about being fired. I don't have to convince Gertie I'm worthy enough to live here, and we do not have to get married." She gives me a smile like this is going to make me happy.

"These seem like hasty decisions. And this apartment, you love this place."

"I love my grandmother, and I tied her to this place, but that's wrong. She lives here." Harlow pats her chest. "Not here." She taps the coffee table. "Whew. I feel like a fifty-pound weight has lifted off my chest. You must feel good too." She climbs off the sofa and heads toward the bedroom. "I'm going to change and then eat some leftovers. We still have leftovers, right?"

I reach over and pick up the mug. The hot chocolate is ice cold.