Page 89 of Jesse

“Don’t know yet.”

“What tabloid story?” Emma says again.

“Is she mentioned?”

“Oh, yeah,” Zach says.

“What are you two talking about? What’s going on?”

I look at Emma. Drugging and kidnapping aside, she’s a nice girl. Accomplished woman. Strong, smart, going places… beautiful.

Do I really think she’s gonna stick around for the Boston Brothers’ Shit Show?

And even if she did, what kind of man would allow her to get involved in a family like ours?

Why did I invite her over here? What was I thinking?

“Here,” Zach says. “This is what they’re showing right now.” He holds his phone out to me.

Emma leans in. “So?” she says, lifting her eyes up to Zach. “It’s just me walking into the building with you.”

Zach and I trade glances.

“Stop doing that, OK?” Emma says. “It’s insulting. If you two have something to say, just fucking say it.”

I realize I still have Emma’s hand. I give it a squeeze. Then I smile and say, “You’re right. It’s probably nothing.” I glance at Zach. “Hey, why don’t you fuck off for a while, eh? I’m gonna show Emma around.”

“Whatever,” Zach mutters. “You know where I am if you need me.”

He disappears around the corner to the left and I lead Emma to the right.

“What’s that way?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder.

“That’s Zach’s side of the floor. I had this place turned into two apartments for us, so this side is mine.”

“Hmmm. You really take care of him, don’t you?”

“I do my best,” I say, stopping in front of the tall, wooden double doors and punching in my key code. The lock beeps, lights up green, and then clicks open. “Well, this is me.”

We walk forward into my space. And look, there’s nothing weird or creepy about my apartment. It’s just a big space well designed with nice high-end furniture. That’s all.

I guess that’s why I thought having her over would be fine. I didn’t factor in the entrance. That’s where I fucked up. I didn’t see her approach from her point of view.

The building, the water wall, the cement moat, Zach, the metal detectors, every door has a fucking coded lock, my floor lobby, etc., etc., etc.

And it probably didn’t help that I had the lights off when she got out of the elevator. I thought she’d like the view. That’s the only reason it was dark. I just… thought she’d see the view.

But that’s not what she saw.

She saw me.

The real me.

“This is nice,” Emma says, letting go of my hand so she can twirl in the center of the space and take it all in.

I don’t have much. I’m kind of a simple guy. There’s a gray, oversized sectional couch, a huge TV above the fireplace, a few side tables and chairs, and a cozy dining area in front of the windows. The floors are black concrete polished to a slick shine. The walls and rugs are gray and the trim and baseboards are black.

“Very bachelor pad,” Emma says.