"What does he want now?" he asked.
"I don't know. I thought he gave up on the idea of getting back together. I haven’t heard from him in about a month. Maybe this was his way of telling me he knows where I am. A text message would've sufficed, you know? But he always liked to intimidate me."
"I can't imagine anyone ever being able to intimidate you."
"That's because you don't know my ex," I said with a sad smile.
"Does he have anything to do with the reason you’re changing jobs?”
"Yes. Everything happens for a reason, huh? Well, I’ve read somewhere that sometimes the reason is that you make stupid choices, and those lead to stupid results. It applies to me."
"Natalie." His voice was soft. “We own condos around the city. I can talk to my brothers right now and ask if any of them are free for you to move in."
I couldn't believe what he just said.
"Wait, have I stepped into an alternate universe? Why would you even offer that?"
"Is it safe for you to live here?"
"Even if it wasn’t, why would you offer?"
"Because we have condos, and you might need a place to stay." His eyes pinned me to my spot. They were intense and also full of worry.
I shook my head. "Thanks for the offer, but that's really not necessary. And even if it were, I wouldn't take you up on it."
"Why not?" He sounded exasperated, like he couldn't possibly understand.
"I don't know you, Jake, or your family. I met your grandmother a couple weeks ago and you yesterday. I can’t accept to move into one of the properties your family owns."
Standing up, he took off his jacket. My little cozy home was unseasonably warm, and it had no AC.
"Anything you need, call me. I mean it."
"That’s very generous of you to offer, Jake. I didn't think you had it in you."
"You're getting your sass back. Good." Looking around, he added, “I like your house. It’s very welcoming.”
“Thanks. I wanted to make it as cozy as possible. I have a bit of an obsession with paintings. I buy them from up-and-coming artists.”
“They fit here. Looks good.”
I tried to look at it from his point of view. His villa in Martha’s Vineyard couldn’t be more different. It was huge, and every piece of furniture had been chosen by a decorator. My entire home could fit in his living room. I’d bought most of the furniture during sale season. It was why it was all a mix and match of styles, but I loved it. The gray couch was soft and velvety. The pink area rug brightened up the space. The kitchen was black with gold handles on the cupboards—they came with the house, and changing it would have been too expensive. I wasn’t fond of black, but I couldn’t deny it was elegant. My dining room table was pure wood, as were the chairs, with separate seat cushions on them. It all sat on a giant round gray rug. I had pictures of my family everywhere around the room, plus eight paintings. Some were classic depictions of nature, and others were postmodernist. There wasn’t a recurring theme in them; I simply bought what made my soul happy.
"Thank you for driving me home."
"We'll keep in touch," he said.
“We will? I was ready to bet you’re delighted to finally be rid of me.”
He stared at me. I licked my lower lip, determined to maintain eye contact.
“You’re back to square zero with my grandmother’s party, are you not?”
“What’s one thing got to do with the other?”
“Unless you have any of my brothers’ phone numbers, I’m still your onlysourcein regard to her likes and dislikes.”
“True.”