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Cal clears his throat. Gertie purses her lips together and closes the door. We hear her undo three locks, and then she appears in the open doorway. “Take off your shoes,” she orders.
We oblige. Gertie’s apartment has more knickknacks than Grams’. It’s wall to wall curio cases full of plates and figurines and even toys. The living room is crowded with furniture, too. It’s as if she lives in an antique shop.
“This is from 19th Century England, and this is from the estate of Sadie Cushman, who is one of the original Mayflower families, and this is from a Rockefeller that I picked up at Sotheby’s last year.” She’s very proud of her collection.
“Nice,” I say. Cal’s silent.
She finally sits on a flowered sofa that looks like it could have come from Grams’ apartment and then looks up at us expectantly.
Cal taps a chair and points for me to sit down even though Gertie never extended the invitation. He hates her. It’s a good thing he’s not a mafia boss because I think he’d have her rubbed out. If that’s a thing mafia bosses still do.
“What do you have to say?” She looks smug.
“I lied. I wasn’t engaged nor was I planning to marry Cal.”
“I feel like that is a mischaracterization. We did agree to an engagement which is a promise to marry,” Cal interjects.
“But it was just for show.”
“Not for me.”
I throw up my hands.
“Sorry. Go ahead.” He gestures toward Gertie, who is watching us with a confused expression.
“I put out an ad for a fake fiancé. Cal didn’t mean to answer it, but I mistook him for the guy who had responded to the ad, and for some reason, Cal agreed to act as my fiancé.”
“It wasn’t an act on my part,” he adds.
Gertie’s brows grow even closer together. Cal’s comments are making it tough for her to buy this story.
“Are you saying it was love at first sight?” she finally asks.
“Yeah, for me. It took me a while to convince Harlow the hard-hearted.”
“It’s been like a week,” I protest.
“That long?” he sighs, looking put out.
Gertie rocks back. “So are you getting married?”
“Yes, next week. We’re doing a courthouse wedding with a larger ceremony later.
I promised Aunt Gia. We’ll be inviting all the residents of The Grand, of course.” Cal smiles. It’s our trump card.
The gears inside Gertie’s brain start working that out. Cal and I are getting married. It will be one of the major social events in the city. If it got out that Gertie ruined the opportunity to attend for the rest of the residents, she’d definitely lose her position as president of the board.
“Well, even though you planned to deceive us, in the end it appears you are fulfilling the requirements we had laid out. And obviously with your marriage to Cal, there will not be any problems meeting the financial obligations of a resident, so I will recommend that you be approved for ownership of your grandmother’s apartment.”
“Great. I appreciate it.” I stand up and offer my hand.
After a moment of hesitation, we shake. The deal is done. Cal has a shit-eating grin on his face, but I push him toward the door so Gertie can’t see it.
“Don’t gloat,” I order, punching the elevator button.
“This is my natural state.”
“So you’re always gloating?”
