I can’t help but look at Ross differently now that I’m aware he and Mistee slept together, and watching the way they interact makes me think that maybe they are still fucking. As they run the front line together, they are so chummy, shoulder-to-shoulder.

But I’m sure it’s only me overanalyzing things as I try to grasp at strings and not focus on the fact that I have three days left before I have to leave my apartment. Imagining walking away from my home makes me so sad that my throat tightens.

Keeping my eyes down as I work in the back of the line like a peasant, I pray that there will be another way…there has to be. I haven’t heard from King or Charlie, so who knows at this rate. I decided to not ask King for help, I don’t want to owe him anything. If I am meant to move, then that will be my destiny and I’ll accept it.

“Here are some more boxes for you, Ever,” Trent says as he comes into the kitchen.

“Thanks.” He sets them by the back door and I know there isn’t much longer left of my shift.

“I need a seared salmon fillet.”

“Yes, Chef,” I call out to Mistee and prepare the fish as she has requested.

Finishing up the last few items, we do a shift swap and I grab my boxes and bolt. Loading them into my trunk, Mistee runs out and stops me before I can get into my car. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m stressed about the move…that’s all.”

“You can come and crash at my place,” she offers.

“Thanks,” I tell her.

“I mean it.”

“I appreciate it, I might take you up on it.”

“Listen, I’m sorry about the whole Ross thing.”

“It’s cool,” I brush it off, not wanting to talk about things at all.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I mean you’re a grown woman, you can make your own decisions.”

“Thanks. Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I kinda like him.”

“Really?” I ask scrunching my eyebrows together and I close my trunk.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Let’s give it another week.” I tell her and walk to the driver’s side. “Have a good night.”

“Oh, come on,” she whines as I slam my door and then back away, leaving her standing in the middle of the parking lot. I’m aware of how Mistee is with her short ass attention span. Next week, it’ll be another guy.

God, I need a fucking drink. I can’t deal with her or anyone for that fact right now. It’s been a long day, I haven’t slept for shit, and I’m about to end up being forced to move back home with my dad who I’m sure still cries himself to sleep every night even six years later. I don’t even want to imagine the hours I’ll be trapped on the fucking freeway.

I get home and notice right away that King’s car is not outside. He hasn’t been at the project for days – not that I’m keeping track, but I totally find myself doing so and I have no clue why. Grabbing my boxes, I haul them upstairs and crack a beer. I power up my laptop and search Craigslist for any new rentals that are in my price range, hoping…praying that there is at least one. I’ve also gone around to all the nearby apartment buildings that I can afford and put my name on the waiting list, so I’m still holding out hope there. I mean…I have to find something and fast.

Getting lost in searching again, the same way I have been for days, I pray my mom is looking down on me and that she will not let me end up in a bad situation. I hold on to that hope as I persevere, not giving up, the way she raised me.

* * *

I tossed and turned all night, another terrible night’s sleep. The sun is beginning to light the sky and I’m thinking – or more like hoping – an early morning run might jump start my day and help to clear my mind. Dragging my tired ass out of bed, I pull my hair up into a ponytail and brush my teeth, get dressed, then trudge to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

Scooping out the grinds, there is a knock on the door. I answer it automatically, and am surprised when I see King, immediately followed by aggravation. I slam the door in his face, but he stops the door with his hand, and says, “Oh good, you’re up.” And walks right on in like he owns the place.

“Sure, just come right in,” I tell him and yawn, struggling to make the coffee, feeling all the fight go out of me as I concentrate on getting caffeinated.

“Why, thank you,” he says and closes the door behind him. I glare at him over my shoulder as I press the “on” button. His wide eyes are so fresh and awake as he undresses me from behind. “Should I get naked, or are you really going to stare at me like you can see through my clothes?”

“I’m not staring at you.” His tone is offended and he’s quick to recover. “But you can get naked, if you want.”

“Fuck you!”

“I like your mouth.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t like yours, and I really, really don’t want to deal with you right now.”

The coffee begins to brew and I’m forced to turn around. The sink is empty of dishes, so I have nothing else to keep myself busy.

“I wish you did.”

“What do you want?” I ask him.

“I come bearing gifts.” He unbuttons his suit coat, this one is gray and sleek, and he pulls out a folded piece of paper from the inside pocket, handing it to me.

“You know I don’t want any of your gifts.”

“Well, this one I am legally obligated to deliver to you and I think you’ll like it.”

Slowly I open the paper as he watches me, studying my every move. My heart stammers reading the letter he gave me. A feeling of relief rushes over me, like never before, and I shake my head so utterly confused. Why would he do this? Looking up at him, I blink away the tears and ask him the question he keeps asking me. “Why?”

“Why not?”

“Don’t. Don’t fuck with me like this. This letter says…” I trail off and turn my back to him. “What kind of person would do something like this?”

“Me? Did you really think that I was gonna sit back and let you get evicted? I might be a dick, but I’m not heartless, and I told you I wanted to help.”

“But I didn’t need your help.”

“Ever, look around you, all of your things are packed. In two days, you were gonna move out of here. Face it…you needed my help.”

He turns me towards him, the beating of my heart is off the charts, and I look back down at the paper.

“You don’t seem happy,” he whispers and runs his fingers into his long combed back hair.

“I’m in shock, King. Who buys someone they barely know, an apartment building?”

“I do.”

Wiping my eyes dry on a paper towel, I ask him, “Why? You don’t even know me.”

“But I want to. My back is against a wall when it comes to you, Ever. You confuse me and challenge me and make me want you. You’ve left me no choice – I heard the pain in your voice when you called me.”

“But it wasn’t your place to fix.”

“What’s done is done. We started off on the wrong foot and I want to make that right. I want you to go out on one date with me, that’s all I’m asking.”

“So, that’s really why you did this? Not because you saw how hurt I was, you wanted something in return.”

“We all want something in return. I just thought of it first.”

“No, you stooped to that level first. I’m not going out with you.”

“Then I’ll serve you with an eviction notice myself.”

I scoff at him. This motherfucker is so twisted, he’s leaving me with no choice. I have to.

Holding his hands out in a conciliatory gesture, he says, “One date, then the building is yours and you can stay here for as long as you’d like. You can even sell it and pocket the money.”

“You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” I toss the paper towel into the trash and he says, “Come on, one date.”

I contemplate my options as I don’t fully trust him. I’ve seen that he’s…loony. And that’s me stating it nicely. He’s got me stuck with my back stuffed so far into the corner I don’t see another option. He’s manipulating me, the way Mistee wants me to do to Ross. What is wrong with people?

“One date?” he pleads for a third time, like a kid begging their parents for a new puppy.

“Fine, but I want it in writing,”

“Absolutely, that’s fair. I’ll have my attorney draw it up.” He’s dead serious, and I tell him, “No, I meant on a napkin or something.”

“Oh…okay.” He pulls a pen out of his jacket pocket and takes a seat on my couch. I watch him closely, his coat unbuttoned, his tight dress shirt straining the muscles of his stomach, and he writes deliberately on the back of the notice that I was holding. His face is strained as he concentrates on what he’s doing, and I find myself undressing him with my eyes for the first time. Feeling damp between my legs imagining what he looks like underneath. Then he says, “How’s this?” and hands me the paper.

Reading the back of it, I can’t help but chuckle. Clearly he’s an architect, the way it is all mapped out and perfect. It reads, I, Kingsley Lennox, promise to gift Everly Adams the building located at 1888 Rawlings Avenue and will not evict her if she will go out on one date with me, and it’s already signed by him.

“It’s perfect.”

I set it on the table as he stares at me. My breathing quickens and he reaches for my lips, touching them. His fingers are so soft and warm. But I pull away, not letting him touch me. One date is all I need to get through, and then I am done with him. I’ve hurt him pulling away, I can see that. His forehead is creased and he says, “Six o’clock tonight?”

“No, seven.” Maybe I’m being unnecessarily contrary, but I won’t give in on one more thing to this man.

He takes the paper back and folds it, placing it back into his coat, then buttons it and walks out of my home. Completely dumbfounded, I’m not sure how to feel. Part of me is pissed at the fact that he’s manipulating me into going out with him and the other finds it kinda sexy that he bought me a fucking apartment building. I mean, it’s not every day that you find someone who is willing to go to such great lengths to get your attention.