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Chapter Sixteen
Landon
IT’S BEEN TWO HOURS since Nora left my apartment to get her work clothes. Well, her excuse was that she needed her work clothes, but I’m not completely ignorant of the coincidental timing. A stranger shows up in my apartment, and Nora just happens to know his name? And then she needs to leave for a bit, when she could easily just wake up earlier tomorrow and get her clothes then?
What a day I’ve had. Nora showed me a side of her I hadn’t seen; not only is she mind-blowingly sexy, she managed to turn off all the noise in my head with the sound of her voice. I felt comfortable, and as stupid as it sounds, I felt confident in my inexperience with her guiding me, telling me I can be who I want to be when I’m with her. The thought of being able to spin a completely new version of myself is strange. With her I can be more than the nice guy; I can be more than someone’s best friend. I don’t have to solve everyone else’s problems and neglect my own when I’m with her.
My head is throbbing, and my living room is finally put back together. Hardin argued with me for a little bit before he disappeared and came back twenty minutes later with an extra chain lock to put on the door. Luckily for him, he caught Ellen just as she was leaving, and she was nice enough to reopen for a moment to let him buy a lock. I don’t think he would have slept tonight without one, and given that he is Hardin, I could even see him breaking into the store downstairs to get one himself. I think of what he said about Tessa, and how nervous she was after our break-in, and go to the closet to grab my small toolbox to install the lock.
Ken gave me this toolbox when I decided to move to New York. It’s nothing too special, but it meant something to him, so it means something to me. I could see it in his eyes when he handed me the small red box, and I noted the way his voice changed when he explained the function of each tool inside. I didn’t let on that he was telling me things I already knew.
I didn’t tell him that I’ve been fixing things my whole life, that I’m an expert. Instead, I let him explain each thing to me in great detail. I even asked questions like “What’s the difference between a Phillips head and a flathead screwdriver?”
I had a feeling he needed these simple moments with his stepson, to make up for lost times with his actual son.
When the lock is on and sturdy, I sit down on the couch and turn on the TV. What can I watch to distract me from staring at the clock? I turn on Netflix and scroll.
And scroll.
And then, scroll.
Nothing sounds distracting enough to keep my mind off Nora. While I read the titles of the movies recommended for my account, I curse the irony.
Julie & Juliaand Chocolat are the top two: cooking-related movies, of course. The selections make me think of Nora in her work uniform, and then, out of it. It’s possible that the movies are recommended because of her and Tessa’s history, but I decide that it’s some sign from somewhere. I keep scrolling. Nora should star in her own movie about a beautiful, intelligent, and mysterious woman. A woman who also happens to bake edible heaven. If our lives were a movie, it would be easier to uncover her secrets.
I think about the movies I used to watch with my mom on the Lifetime channel. As much as I hate to admit it, some of those movies were pretty dang good. They always had insane plots, like psycho babysitters who try to steal husbands, or husbands who turn out to be con artists, sometimes even murderers. If Nora was the star of a Lifetime movie, she could be a spy or even an assassin. In my head, I piece together what I know.
With her shady trips to Scarsdale, she could be either. From what Google knows about Scarsdale, it’s a pretty wealthy area with an older population. Her family lives in Washington, so it has to be someone else. My phone buzzes across the table and I grab it, reading the name on the screen.
Dakota.
