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The little rundown apartment is only a couple of blocks away, and it makes me hate the Sinclair family more. Because that’s who it’s owned by. And Edward Sinclair, my nemesis, is the owner and is jacking up the rent.
His gran—Amanda—tells me this in a loud whisper as Magnus deals with dishes. She pats my hand as she sits on her recliner. I look around at the place. It’s old and sparse and small.
She follows my gaze. “I can barely afford this place now. When my lease is up…” She sighs and shakes her head, giving my hand another pat.
“Your grandson’s going to do whatever it takes to stop that. And I’ll help, too.” There’s so much I want to say, there are things I wish I could do, but I can’t save her home. I can’t do anything.
“They wanted Magnus to move to London, did you know that? He tells me he wanted a change, so he left marketing, but I think he did that for me.”
It hurts for some reason, that idea of Magnus no longer in New York. But he’ll find something to fit his skills, and pay him more than I ever could. I don’t know why he doesn’t do that, anyway. And it’s not like we’re dating.
Then there’s the sadness and guilt in her gaze and I smile. “I think your grandson does whatever he wants to do.”
“I know. I just don’t want him to throw his life away.”
“I don’t think he sees you like that.”
“He won’t leave me, no matter what I say.” The old lady shakes her head. “It worries me.”
“He’d hate you to worry.” I smile as brightly as I can as I sit on the old sofa next to her. “There’ll be other jobs for him. He’s smart.”
His gran chuckles and coughs, breathing hard. Magnus comes running. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
“No. Just like I told you when you came over last night. I’m fine.” She says this sharply, like it’s a conversation they’ve had a billion times, and it contains a warning tone. “Just worn out.”
“We need to head out, anyway,” he says. “C’mon, Gran. Go lie down.”
The old lady nods. “You’re a good boy. And I like her.”
“Gran…” He slides an embarrassed look my way.
Amanda lets him help her up and lead her away. “I hope to see you again, Zoey,” she says, “I like you…”
“I didn’t expect her to turn up,” Magnus says, walking me home.
It’s a quiet Monday in this part of Bushwick, for the neighborhood. There are a lot of apartment buildings perched on top of shops, and buildings with stoops that lead directly to the street.
We’re a block away from my store and home, but I stop. He stops, too. I look up at him in the streetlamps. “She’s lovely.”
I don’t know what it is I want to say, only there’s something there, pressing at me, and he’s watching, like he’s waiting to follow my lead.
“Yeah.”
“And she cares about you.”
“Zoey, thanks for coming.”
He touches my cheek and I almost sigh in the cool night air. “Of course.”
“Even though you’re mad at me.” Magnus smiles, flashing the dimple.
“I’m not…I…” I breathe out. “I…I don’t know why you don’t find something suited where you can make more money.”
He sighs. “It’s a rock and a hard place.”
“What is?”
He takes my hand and kisses it, and instead of making me swoon, it makes me frown. I like him. Okay, I can admit that, but I can’t let a man addle my brain.
