Six
Ian leaned on the slate-tiled exterior of a stone and tile showroom in Harlem, holding a to-go cup of hourmet in each hand. He was dapperly dressed in a pair of grey gabardine trousers, a crisp white button-up and a pair of black, cap toe shoes that had not seen the light of day since F. Scott Harrington’s wedding.
It had been a little over a week since he had seen Chloe and this was their first session together. Days before, he had completed her client questionnaire, which contained an assortment of questions from where he grew up and went to college; to what he liked to do on weekends and days off. Curiously enough, there were no questions pertaining to what he was looking for in a woman or if he had a Type.
He supposed it had something to do with Chloe’s snake oil claim that she could somehow sense when two people were soulmates. Yet, in the real world of chemistry and physics, he wondered how she planned to pull off choosing the perfect woman for him, without some sort of North Star as to his preferences and expectations when it came to the fairer sex.
He was very much looking forward to seeing her parlour tricks in action.
As he awaited her arrival, he ran through his game plan for the day. Over the weekend, he and Fitz had sat at their favorite pub strategizing how he could pull off pretending to be an architect for six to eight hours straight. After three rounds of beers and appetizers, they settled on starting the day at this stone and tile showroom, where Ian could pretend he was evaluating tile options for the atrium of a residential building ‘his firm’ was remodeling from head to toe.
Next, Ian would take Chloe over to Fitz’s priority construction site, where ‘they’ were building a 5-star hotel and entertainment complex financed by Yuri Petrovich, a Russian oligarch and luxury hotel magnate. The two of them would sit in the office trailer on-site, where Ian would pretend to crunch numbers and update project timelines on a computer. Then Fitz would show up and regale Chloe with true tales from his life as an enterprising architect as they dined at a steakhouse nearby – presuming she was not a vegetarian.
In the afternoon, the three of them would journey to a pitch meeting at a landscape architecture firm Fitz was considering bringing on as a subcontractor on the Petrovich project. Then Ian would bid Chloe adieu and he and Fitz would pop into their favorite pub – a favorite because it was down the street from their apartment – where he could unwind from the day’s subterfuge.
A taxi slowed to a stop in front of him and Chloe hopped out, wearing a billowy dress and looking as lovely and refreshing as a summer breeze.
“Hi. Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said with a guilt-laden smile.
“Good morning,” he replied. “Coffee?”
“Wow, yes. Thanks. What kind is it?”
“It’s a special blend Fitz, my roommate… and business partner, created.”
She took a sip, then her eyes widened with delight. “This is phenomenal.”
“I know, right?” he replied with a grin. His secret weapon never failed to deliver.
“So Fitz, is he an architect as well?”
Ian nodded. “In fact, he’s the talented one. Which is why he’s client-facing while I’m more behind-the-scenes, handling the numbers, contracts, suppliers and all that.”
They stepped into the showroom and for the next forty minutes or so, Ian tried his damnedest to act and sound like he knew the beneficial differences between travertine, slate, limestone and a whole host of other tile options. He was certain he made a number of amateur missteps along the way. Yet, the salesman was gracious enough not to call him out on it. Likely because he presumed Ian was in peacock mode – trying to impress the young lady he had waltzed into the shop with.
Ian breathed a quiet sigh of relief the second they exited the showroom. Then he turned to Chloe. “You cool with taking the subway?”
“Mm-hmm,” she replied without hesitation.
During the two weeks he had spent tailing her from afar, Chloe had taken the subway only once. He presumed she was just another elitist snob who only took the train when there was no other recourse.
Yet, moments later, when they stepped into a train car that was standing room only, Chloe seemed unfazed by the sights, sounds and smells of the eclectic menagerie that is the New York City subway. They maneuvered to a less crowded spot in the rear of the car and each planted a hand on the handrail above.
“So are you a native New Yorker or a transplant like half the people in this city?” Ian asked as the train began to rattle down the track.
“I’m a transplant.”
“From where?”
“Maryland. Near Annapolis.”
“Ah, let me guess… in high school, your parents warned you to stay away from those horny Navy Academy boys.”
Chloe chuckled. “That might have come up when we had The Talk.”
“So when you graduated from high school, having not been knocked up by a seaman, where’d you go?”
“Nice double entendre.”
Ian smiled, loving that his wordplay had not gone unnoticed.
“I went to college in Rhode Island, then moved here.”
She was being vague. Which meant she had gone to a small, liberal arts college no one had ever heard of; or she had gone to an Ivy. His money was on the latter.
“You grew up in Boston, right?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he replied, recalling that that was one of the questions on her intake questionnaire.
“I really like Boston,” she said. “It’s a beautiful city but still down-to-Earth.”
Suddenly the train jerked, causing hourmet to spring forth from Chloe’s cup and onto Ian’s shirt.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” Without thinking, Chloe took her free hand off the overhead rail and began to wipe the coffee droplets from his shirt.
The train car jerked once more, knocking Chloe off-balance. As she began to fall backwards, Ian wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. Amazingly enough, no coffee was spilled in the process.
“You okay?” he asked, his eyes connecting with hers.
“Yes, thank you.”
She looked away and reached up to clasp her hand back around the overhead rail. The flora of her perfume teased his nose and Ian became acutely aware of the curve of her waist, the rosé of her lips, the sweet softness of her dress.
Under different circumstances, if he was not undercover and she a charlatan, he would have found a way to keep his arm there just a while longer. Perhaps by asking another question to distract her; or by saying something witty like, it’s not every day I get to rescue a damsel in distress, but when I do, it’s with one arm.
She would have laughed and he would have had a few more seconds of bliss.
Yet, for Ian, no matter how attractive a source or a person of interest might be, the story always came first. So he withdrew his arm from her waist and his eyes from her face, and turned his attention back to the task at hand.
A half hour later, they resurfaced aboveground and crossed the street to Fitz’s Midtown construction site. Ian glanced at Chloe, who was visibly in awe of the massive tract of soil that once was home to two Art Deco high-rises.
The air was filled with dust and the sounds of drilling as they made their way to a mobile trailer nestled on the far end of the site. Inside, the trailer had a couch on one end; a desk and computer on the other; filing cabinets and a drafting table in between.
“Welcome to my office,” Ian said with mock pomp and circumstance.
“I like it. Very feng shui.”
Ian smiled as he walked over to the desk. “I feel like I should apologize in advance, the next hour or so is going to be pretty boring as I have some number crunching to do, but you said you wanted to shadow me during a typical day.”
“No worries, I have plenty to occupy myself in the meantime.”
She sat on the couch and pulled out an iPad.
“By the way, are you vegetarian?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“There’s a really good steakhouse near here. I was thinking we could go there for lunch.”
“Sounds good.”
Ian sat behind Fitz’s desk, wiggled the computer mouse and watched as the computer monitor slowly awakened from its slumber. Then he opened up one of Fitz’s budget spreadsheets, made a duplicate copy and starting inputting fake financial numbers like a boss.
Suddenly, the door to the trailer flew open and in stormed a large man with broad shoulders, a booming chest and an equally booming voice. Behind him was a bodyguard who was bigger and taller than he.
The man looked at Ian and scowled.
“Where is Fitz?” he demanded, in a thick Russian accent.
Ian stood up. “He had a meeting with the marble supplier. You must be Yuri.”
Yuri cocked his head. “And you are?”
Ian walked over to shake Yuri’s hand. “Ian. I work with Fitz.”
Yuri squinted his eyes. “Fitz never mention you.”
“I’m much more behind-the-scenes.”
Yuri shook the rolled up blueprint he wielded in his hand. “Fitz send me this for approval. But I cannot approve what makes no sense.”
He plodded over to the drafting table and unfurled the blueprint. “Look at this. Does this look like garden courtyard to you? All I see is circles and squares. There is no depth, no color. This, I do not like.”
“Okay, uh, let me call Fitz since he’s the lead on this project.”
Ian took out his cell and speed-dialed Fitz. Meanwhile, Yuri glanced over his shoulder, noticing Chloe for the first time.
“Hello,” Yuri said with a smile.
“Hi.”
He walked over and reached for her hand. “Yuri Petrovich.”
“Chloe Daniels.”
“A pleasure,” he said kissing her hand with gentle grace. Then he nodded at Ian. “Are you with him?”
Chloe nodded, mistaking his meaning.
He frowned. “A pity.”
“I couldn’t reach him,” Ian said, hanging up. “He must be in the subway. But I left a message for him to give you a call as soon as he’s above-ground.”
“I am busy man. I do not wait. Are you like Fitz?”
Ian furrowed his brow, not following.
“Are you architect like Fitz?”
Ian glanced at Chloe who was definitely listening to all that was being said. “Yes, I am, but…”
“Then you, explain this.” Yuri plodded back over to the blueprint on the drafting table.
Shit!
“Oh… uh…”
“Or I hire different firm that is more competent. Simple that.”
Double shit!
The last thing Ian wanted was to cause his best friend to lose his biggest commission to date. “Okay, lemme just…”
Ian hunched over the drafting table. His fingernails dug into the sides of the table as he stared at the blueprint as though it were the Rosetta Stone.
“Okay, let’s see… what… we… have…. here…”
“What is wrong?” Yuri asked.
“Nothing. I’m just, uh, getting my bearings.”
Yuri looked at Ian’s shoulders. “You are misaligned. That is why you cannot think straight.”
Yuri snapped his fingers. His bodyguard, Alexei, walked over and wrapped an arm around Ian’s shoulders…
Ian’s eyes bulged with alarm. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, listen, guys, there’s no need for violence…”
Alexei planted the palm of his free hand on Ian’s cheek and jerked it to the right. Click went the sound of vertebrae in Ian’s spine.
“Ah!” Ian cried out, not so much from pain, but from the humiliation of being manhandled by a Russian giant in front of polite company.
Yuri glanced at Chloe. “Alexei’s father was chiropractor.”
They both watched as Alexei planted his palm on Ian’s other cheek and jerked it to the left.
Suddenly, Chloe’s facial expression shifted, her bottom lip dropped and her eyes locked on Yuri as a thread of kismet looped around him. She stood up, on full alert.
She opened the door to the trailer, stepped outside and watched as the thread disappeared into the cab of a mobile crane that was on the move.
“Yuri?”
“Yes.”
“Are you married?”
“Divorced.” He turned and graced her with a wink. “Why? Are you proposing?”
Chloe grabbed a nearby hard hat and bolted out the door.
Yuri shrugged his shoulders, then turned his attention back to Alexei, who now had his arms wrapped around Ian’s torso. Alexei leaned back, lifting Ian’s feet off the ground.
“Breathe,” Alexei said softly.
“Listen, my thoughts are clear now. Very clear. If you just put me down then we can…”
Yuri leaned in close to Ian’s face. “Breathe out,” he said like a man accustomed to giving orders and having them followed.
“Okay, okay… breathing out.”
As he breathed, Alexei jerked Ian’s body twice, causing his vertebrae to click once more.
“Do the pogo stick,” Yuri commanded. Alexei nodded.
Ian’s eyes widened with horror. The what!
“This is best move for alignment,” Yuri said as Alexei spun Ian around 180-degrees so his legs were in the air and his face… in Alexie’s crotch.
“Ahh, what the fuck!” Ian said, jerking his head back as far away from the crotch as humanly possible.
Alexei pressed a fist into Ian’s spine, then jerked his body up and down, causing his vertebrae to go click once again.
Satisfied, Alexei flipped Ian over and set him down on the ground. Finally free, Ian scurried backwards, far away from the chiropractic giant.
“Okay… okay…” he said, trying to catch his breath. “That was, uh…”
He straightened his back and was surprised to find that he actually felt good. Really good.
“Wow,” he said, touching his spine. “That actually worked.”
Yuri smiled. “I always say to Alexei, he has special gift.”
Ian turned his attention to the couch, which was empty; then to the door, which was ajar.
“Where’d she go?” he asked, alarmed.
He raced through the door, looked to his left then his right. In the distance, he saw Chloe waving her arms at a crane as its torso rotated to the left… towards her.
“What the hell!” he exclaimed.
He raced down the steps and skidded right into the path of a tow truck as it was backing up. Yuri yanked him back just in time.
“Thanks,” Ian breathed before turning his attention back to his matchmaker who, it seemed, had just lost her damned mind!
The crane stopped moving and a woman, who looked to be in her forties, opened the door to the cab and started yelling at Chloe. Ian could not hear what she was saying, but he knew the face of a pissed off woman when he saw one.
This woman was especially intimidating as she was built like a linebacker and was rocking an asymmetrical haircut straight out of Jersey. But her yelling and badassery did not faze Chloe one bit.
Ian started walking towards the crane, hoping to put an end to whatever the hell was going on before Fitz arrived. He glanced at Yuri, who had fallen in step beside him, and noticed that Yuri’s eyes were trained on the woman on the crane.
Ian shifted his gaze back to Chloe just as she moved towards a steel ladder leading up to the crane’s cab.
“Please tell me she isn’t about to do what I think she’s about to…” Ian mumbled.
Sure enough, Chloe started climbing the ladder.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he grumbled with exasperation.
“Hey, what are you doing?” came the angry sound of a man Ian instantly recognized as the site foreman. “You can’t be out here without a hard hat.”
Yuri, who had wisely grabbed a hat before leaving the trailer, kept on walking.
“Look,” Ian said. “I’m a friend of Fitz and I…”
“I don’t care who you are. Even Fitz isn’t dumb enough to prance around here without a hat on.”
Ian looked over at Chloe, who was still talking to the crane operator. As she reached up to shake the woman’s hand, she lost her balance.
“Chloe!”
He broke into a sprint. But his fancy-schmancy shoes, not at all conducive to a construction site, slid over some loose gravel. He fell backwards and landed with a thud on the cold, hard ground.
Ian groaned as he stared up at the clear blue sky. Suddenly, Alexei’s face appeared above him. “You okay?” he asked.
Ian lifted his head and was relieved to see Yuri holding Chloe in his arms.
Meanwhile, his matchmaker was grinning ear-to-ear as Yuri and the crane operator stared at each other like long lost lovers.
Back in the trailer, Ian sat on the couch, pressing an ice pack to the back of his head.
“What the hell was that?” he said, trying to keep a leash on his temper. “You can’t just walk out into the middle of a construction site waving your hands like a crazy person!”
Chloe stood at the window, staring out at a row of picnic tables. The crew had broken for lunch, and Yuri and the woman, whose name was Linda, were seated at one of the tables, giggling.
“You could’ve gotten hurt. Or worse.”
She smiled at the lovebirds. Then she glanced at Ian and, upon seeing the scowl on his lips, her face sobered.
“You’re right. I’m really sorry, Ian, with how I went about it. I hope I didn’t complicate things for you… with the crew or anything.”
“What were you thinking?”
“It’s just… when I see two people who are meant to be together…”
“Wait. You think Yuri and the crane operator are soulmates?”
Chloe looked out the window and grinned. “I know they are.”
Ian stared at her, at a total loss for words.
Suddenly, the door flew open and Fitz raced in. “Hey, I got here as quick as I could. Where’s Yuri?”
Ian nodded at the window. Fitz went to stand next to Chloe and, not at all immune to her beauty, he graced her with his best smile. “You must be Chloe. I’m Fitz.”
“Ian’s business partner!”
“Yes, Ian’s business partner,” Fitz said, cutting his eyes at his roommate. Then he looked out the window and frowned. “Why is Yuri talking to Linda?”
“Apparently it’s a love match,” Ian grumbled.
“A what?”
“Chloe here jumped in front of a moving crane just to bring those lovebirds together.”
“I was just explaining to Ian, when I see two soulmates in the same vicinity, I get this adrenaline rush. All I can think about is bringing them together.”
“Huh… so you’re like an addict,” Fitz replied.
Chloe furrowed her brow, not following.
“You get high off of love.”
Chloe smiled. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
Ian scowled at the pair of them as he re-positioned the ice pack against the angry bump on the back of his head.