By the time we arrive, it’s after five. I’m tired, but we have work to do.
“You look exhausted,” Jackson tells me. “I’m going to go into the office for a few hours, but why don’t I meet you back at the apartment? Go get some rest and we can have a late dinner.” He kisses me on the temple.
His phone rings, and he answers. “Jackson Graham.”
I grab his arm and whisper, “I’m probably going back to my apartment tonight.”
He nods and gets out of the car, talking on the phone. I turn to Brian. “My apartment on Lake Street, please.”
He turns and looks at me. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I have to return at some point.” I can’t look at him, and I watch Jackson disappear into the building.
“Does Mr. Graham know?”
I look at his eyes in the mirror. “I told him, and he didn’t seem to have a problem with it.”
Brian stares back at me. If he calls Jackson or Jim, they’ll probably veto it, but I pay rent for that apartment, and I should go home if it’s ready for me.
“Look, Brian, the long weekend was fantastic, but you know as well as I do, it’s impolite to stay too long at the party.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute,” he responds.
“I’m only trying to recognize this for what it is. We’ll still see each other at the office. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” I wink and smile to assure him I will be okay.
I’m trying to protect my heart, but I’ve already fallen for Jackson. And I don’t believe a zebra changes its stripes. Growing up with an alcoholic teaches you that—no matter how many promises they make.
Brian drives me to my apartment. Everything looks the same, but I don’t feel the same.
“Should I walk you in?”
I already have my hand on the door handle. “Nope. My roommates should be at home. Enjoy your night and give that beautiful family some love. I’m sure they’ve missed you.”
I carry my suitcase up the stairs. Why is it that suitcases seem so light until you have to lug them up three flights?
I put my key in the door and drag my bag over the threshold. “Hello?”
“Oh my God, you’re here.” Angela walks out of the kitchen and gives me a big hug. “This place looks amazing!”
“Give me a tour.”
She walks me around. The furniture is high end in beautiful shades of robin’s egg blue and lots of white.
“Did you pick the stuff out?” she asks. “Stacy and I love it.”
“No, Jackson had a designer do it.” I look around, and I’m impressed with all the detail and what he did for my roommates. “I’m really sorry about the apartment.”
“It wasn’t your fault. They were able to save a few things that were important to me. It’s all good.”
I open the door to my room and see it’s been converted back to a closet. The girls have hung all their clothes up and placed their shoes on the shelves.
“Oh…” What do I do? Where do I go? “I guess I’m not living here anymore.”
Angela turns red. “Sorry. When the decorator didn’t do your room, we thought it was because you were moving in with your boyfriend.”
My heart drops. I’m not particularly close to my roommates, and last they knew I was still dating Bobby—though they never knew which Bobby. I have no place to live. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend,” I whisper. “I’m not dating anyone anymore,” I add more forcefully.
“Oh…” Angela doesn’t seem to know what to do. “I don’t think Stacy will be home tonight. You can stay in her room.”
I’m lost. I have no idea how to manage all this. It’s time I face the facts and move home.
“That’s okay.” I manage a smile. “I can stay with my friend Gabby. I’ll figure it out.”
I pick up my suitcase and begin to descend the stairs. “Be sure to thank your boss for fixing our place,” Angela yells after me.
“I will.” I want to scream out my frustration as I walk to the curb. I never saw San Francisco as my permanent home, but I thought I’d have the chance to leave on my own terms—not in debt and homeless.
I call Gabby.
“Hey!” I say when she answers.
“Oh my God! You’re back.”
“I was only gone for four days.” I laugh. Already Gabby’s voice makes me feel better.
“It seems longer,” she counters. “Can you meet me for drinks?”
“As good as a nice glass of something crisp and white sounds, I don’t want to lug this stupid suitcase around. I may need a place to stay tonight.”
“Even better. Come on over. I have margarita mix and tequila.”
Margaritas sound perfect. I call a rideshare and make my way to her apartment. During the drive, I mull over why Jackson didn’t replace my things, too. What sort of message is he trying to send? Does this mean I don’t have a job? Or I have no choice but to stay with him? Maybe he gave me a trip and clothes, so I can replace my own bed? I should be grateful for what he’s done. I don’t know what I’d be wearing right now, otherwise. But I’m done being told where I have to live.
When I’m dropped at the curb, I look up at Gabby’s apartment, and she’s there in the window, waving at me. She’s my best friend, and I’d be lost without her.
