Chapter 9: Harlow

Chapter Nine

HARLOW

I 'm beginning to think Calix Line isn't the poor, down on his luck business man he said he was. He and Gertie know each other from a charity ball? He makes donations big enough that she wants him back and is willing to allow him to live here if he makes another one? I want to question him, but I can't because Gertie's standing in front of me with a shocked expression.

Asking him questions about his income, his status, his family will have to wait. I paste a smile on my face. "Hi, Gertie. I guess you already know Cal."

"Where's your ring?" Mindy interrupts.

My brain freezes. "What?"

"Your ring? If you're really engaged, where's your ring?"

"It's being sized. I gave her Grandma Edith's wedding ring, but it was too large. Harlow's hands are very delicate." He raises my fingers to his mouth and presses a kiss against the tips. I wobble on my feet.

He draws me in tightly, like he did in the apartment, as if he thinks I should get used to having him around, having him to rely on. That kind of thinking will be the ruination of me. I force myself to stand away from him—or as far as he will allow, which is about a hand's distance from his side.

"I don't believe you," Mindy retorts with narrowed eyes and a suspicious tone.

"It's none of your business," Cal replies coolly.

"It is if you're lying about the marriage to get the co-op board's approval." Mindy juts out her chin.

"Are you seriously suggesting that I am engaged in a fake romance for an apartment here at The Grand? No offense, Gertie." Cal shifts his attention toward the president instead of Mindy. "Because while this is a beautiful place, I do own my own home. Several, in fact."

"Yes, yes. We all know you are Midas here in the city, but the fact that you are marrying actually gives me more concern than granting approval to Harlow as a single woman. You're both going to live elsewhere, and the apartment will be left unoccupied. Upkeep of the apartment has always been our concern. Obviously Harlow has the means to take care of it now, but if it's only going to be abandoned, it seems like it should be sold to tenants who would be better suited to live in our community."

"I'm going to, I mean, we're going to live here," I interject. Cal has too much money to be going along with my fraud, and now it's going to bite me in the ass. I'm going to have to break up with him and find a new fake fiancé, but that's going to look even worse to the co-op board. How do I get myself into these situations?

"Let's go inside and you can present your case to the board." Gertie opens the library door and heads inside. Mindy follows with a triumphant look on her face.

"You've got some explaining to do," I hiss to Calix, who won't let go of my hand.

"I know. I'll answer everything after the meeting. Stick with the plan for today. You can always say we broke up later."

I hate that he makes sense. Calix doesn't know everyone, but he greets Bob, Gertie's rival, and talks some baseball with him. He's at ease in this room while I feel like I'm at a baseball game dressed in glitter pumps and a tulle skirt. Maybe I should sell the apartment and move on. I could take that money and set up my own agency, like Ariel suggested. My stomach lurches at the thought. This place was my safe haven when I was growing up. Selling it would be like selling part of my soul.

Gertie sits at the head of the table and bangs an actual gavel that her dad used when he was a state court judge. That's the story that she tells, at least. Grams said that Gertie's dad had a reputation for being mean and handing out harsh sentences. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, Grams had remarked more than once.

I hope that means people think of me as warm and kind since that was Grams' reputation. I want to be seen as the fruit of her tree.

"We're here for the regular meeting of The Grand Advisory Committee. Today's agenda includes three items for voting. Because we have guests, we'll address the last item first and vote on it. When that concludes, we will move on to the new recycling and trash contract bids as well as the outdoor landscaping services."

"Why is 2B here?" asks Bob.

"It's Mindy Morton, Bob. My Daddy owned Morton Spice, remember? And I've told you I hate being referred to by my number. I'm here to give statements in opposition to Agenda Item 3. Pursuant to Article 4 of the Homeowner's Association, any member may attend a board meeting so long as they do not disrupt the process." She sniffs and flips one long hank of hair over her shoulder. Mindy has some brains. I'm a little afraid.

Bob grunts and shifts away from Mindy to stare at Gertie. "Why is Line here?"

"He's my fiancé," I answer.

"Sounds fake to me," Bob responds.

Mindy slaps her hand on the table. "Thank you. Since when is Calix Line getting married? He was named the most eligible bachelor just three months ago by Women's Daily ."

"I never asked for that," Calix murmurs. "No one asks to be put on that list."

"Not true," says Leila Frank. She lives two doors down from Gertie. "Men pay to be put on that list every year because they're looking for marriage. I haven't heard that about you, Calix, and really it strikes me more odd that Calix Line would be faking an engagement to help secure ownership of an apartment. He doesn't need the money and would be able to gain our approval through an outright purchase instead of going through any tomfoolery." She peers over her glasses at me. "When did you two meet because during the last co-op board meeting, you said you were single."

Oh, nailed to the cross by my past misdeeds and my lies. "It was recent. We met at a café, and one thing led to another."

"A café?" Mindy snorts. Even Leila has a slightly disbelieving look on her face.

"A café, Ms. Morton. I like coffee, and I certainly like Harlow." Calix threads his fingers between mine. "I understand the desire to make sure all the owners of The Grand are financially capable of keeping up the property. No one here doubts that I have the wherewithal to maintain Harlow's apartment in keeping with the standards expected. I also appreciate your desire to foster a community amongst residents that live here for a long time. The Grand has a history, and it's partly kept that way by being strict about your rules."

I find my voice. "Me keeping this apartment, wanting to live here, is exactly what you all want. This apartment has been in my family for thirty years, and I want to keep it for another thirty years and give it to my—our," I correct with a smile, "children."

Calix's hand tightens over mine, and for a moment, I forget that this is a charade. I let myself pretend that he's really mine and that the hand squeeze is his way of telling me he's dreaming the same things as me.

"I admit that keeping up Gram's apartment may have been difficult for me if there was some major accident like the refrigerator died or the stove blew up, but I can make all the tax payments and maintenance fees without Calix's help. I've got a full-time job, and sure, my income is small now, but it will grow."

"I spend more on my dog than you make in a year," Mindy snaps.

"Maybe you need to budget better then," I return.

Calix makes a choking sound and then starts coughing. "Sorry, something got stuck in my throat," he says.

Mindy glowers at the both of us.

"I think we've had a full discussion. Does anyone have a motion?"

"I move to approve Harlow as a full-time resident of The Grand," Leila says.

"I oppose." Mindy raises her hand.

"You're not a full board member. You don't have a vote. Article 5." Leila directs a smug smile in Mindy's direction, who makes a face but drops her hand to her lap.

"I move to table this motion. There's no need to rush into things. If the marriage works out, then we will vote to approve. If the marriage falls apart, we're back where we started with Harlow struggling to make the maintenance fees and not having enough in savings to cover even a major appliance failure." This is from Gertie's best friend, Catherine, so obviously this is Gertie's opinion. Something they probably had planned out before the doors to the library even opened.

"I second the motion," Bob announces.

Calix's left eye twitches as if this was unexpected to him.

The motion carries, and we find ourselves standing outside the library before another word is said. Mindy sniffs in disgust and starts to walk off. I call out, "Why are you so against me owning my grandmother's apartment? We have barely any contact with each other. The apartments are on the opposite end of the building, so it's not like I'm bothering you when I'm doing stuff. Is it because you're a snob and you don't think I'm good enough to live here?"

"I am not a snob."

"That's debatable," Calix says under his breath but loud enough for me to hear.

"I give plenty of money to charity." Mindy must have heard him too. "I'm a nice person. Everyone says so."

"Probably because you give money to them," Calix says. He slides an arm around my side. "Everyone says I'm nice, too, but we all know I'm a big asshole."

"I have an apartment here at The Grand, too, if that's all you wanted." Mindy's miffed. I guess she really thinks I'm trash.

"I could've bought the whole damned place if The Grand is what I wanted," Calix replies. "Isn't it obvious? I wanted Harlow, not The Grand and not you."

He propels me forward past a stunned Mindy, inside the elevators and back to my apartment.

"She's going to make me pay for that last remark." I throw my house keys onto the console table just inside the door.

"Maybe you should sell this place and come live with me," he suggests like we're real lovers and that's an option.

"Ha ha, cute." I flop down on the sofa. Hands in his pockets, Calix leans against a high chest of drawers that houses Irish crochet doilies, porcelain figurines, and a handful of puzzles of castles in Germany.

"I'm willing to fight for you to stay here, but there are alternatives."

I sit upright and point a finger at Calix. "It's time for you to come clean. Why are you doing all of this? Why did you sign my contract? Why did you agree to take a thousand dollars when you're rich as hell, Mr. Bachelor of the Year?"

"Technically it was a single month, and as I said earlier, I never asked for that."

"That's not answering my question."

"I don't think you're ready for my answer." His face is somber.

I'm confused. "Are you my grandma's secret love child and you want to claim this as your own?"

"I'm only thirty, so secret love child is a stretch."

"You're evading the question."

He pushes away from the chest and strolls over to me. From my position on the couch, he looks huge. Big, firm, capable. I would love to have someone like him at my back all the time. The co-op board meeting could have been nerve-wracking. By myself, maybe I would have had anxiety tears. But he was so firm and had an answer for everything. It'd be nice for him to just sit by my side at work so I wouldn't feel so alone.

He crouches down and takes my hand between his. "I saw you and I liked you."

"Huh?"

"I was supposed to meet my Aunt Gia for lunch. Then you walked into the café. I wanted you. So I lied about who I was and signed the contract and here I am. To sum up, I saw you and I liked you."

I stare at him. "This doesn't make sense."

"Maybe not, but I've always been driven by my gut instinct, and it's hardly ever led me wrong."

"Hardly ever?"

"Only God is infallible, babe." His eyes crinkle as he smiles.

"Why are you so attractive?"

"Another mystery of the universe."

"Please don't smile. I need to work this out because I don't know if I believe you. You've quite literally lied about everything since I met you. Is your name even Calix Line?"

He keeps a hold of my hand while he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. "Here. Look through it."

"You mean look at it."

"No, through it. I don't want to have secrets from you."

I tug my hand free and peer at his license. Thirty, with a birthday three months ago coinciding with his inclusion in the most eligible bachelor list, hair is blond, brown eyes, six-foot-four-inches tall, two hundred pounds.

"Your eyes aren't brown, and your hair isn't blond."

"I'll change it then. What do you want it to say?" He brushes a hand over his thick hair, making a mess and somehow coming off sexier than a moment ago. My sex quivers. A Girl, you're in danger sign goes off in my head.

I thumb through the rest of his wallet. He has five very crisp one thousand dollar bills. Where would he even use these? No one has change. "What if you wanted to buy a smoothie from the food truck?"

"I've got my phone and a credit card." He points to the black card. Tucked behind it are two other cards. They all probably have unfathomable limits. In one of the side pockets is a small folded Post-it note. I show it to him.

"Passwords. I have to change mine every six weeks at work. No one pisses off IT."

"True. I write mine in my desk planner."

"Under, though, on the back side, right?" He eyes me with concern.

"Under…" I trail off. "Where no one can see it? Oh hell, no. God, I'm dumb." I slap the side of my head. "It's my work account. All I do on that computer is work stuff, so I never thought to protect my password like that. What did I care if someone logged into my computer? We share everything. Everything is a team project."