It was a good thing, in the end, that I didn’t have all that much stuff. Helena and I each took a bag, and we took the train back to Manhattan, down to Tribeca, where I’d been in and around Helena’s place so often the past couple weeks that I was starting to get familiar with all the little sights and sounds of the place, into her building and up to her apartment.
We moved furniture together to clear out her office, which involved a lot of complaining, cursing and confusion, as apparently the desk had been assembled by builders inside the room, so we tried to walk it out of the room, found it didn’t fit, backed into the room again and tried a different angle, and then again, and in the end, the desk won. It stayed in the corner of the room while everything else moved out, and Helena and I laughed breathlessly while we sat together on the bare carpeted floor, underneath where the window was cracked to the sounds of people in the street outside. She held up her drink to mine, two bottles of sparkling water that clinked in a toast.
“Here’s to your new desk,” she said.
“I love it. It really suits this room.”
She snorted into her drink. “You and it sure think so.”
“Thanks. For your help.”
She planted her hands on the floor behind her, resting back, looking up at the window. “What are you going to do if this doesn’t work?”
Well, I had my original deadline. I’d still told Mom I’d be going back to Missouri at the end of June, which would line up well enough with when this event was supposed to happen that if it all went catastrophically and I made myself a pariah in this city, then I could finally settle for that and go.
Things would work out fine in Missouri. I’d learned a hell of a lot of good skills here, and I’d be able to put all these things down on my resume in a way that would put me head and shoulders above the competition. I’d get a good job, and I’d be able to afford my own place perfectly comfortably. Probably even get a house. And I’d live happily ever after.
And miss Helena.
“Then I’ll try again,” I said. “Battle of wills, me versus New York. Eventually I’ll win.”
She looked over at me, her hair falling over one side of her face, and she glowed with the sweetest little smile. “Made up your mind to stay?”
“I’ve been told I’m stubborn. Audacious. Besides, I like it here,” I said. “Love the city. Even when it doesn’t love me. And I’m, uh…” I blushed, but I went ahead anyway. “I’m partial to the company.”
She shifted closer, and she lowered her voice a tick. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m glad you and Kingmaker are so close.”
“Ew. Not him.”
There was something in the air in this apartment that kept making me hallucinate, because I swear Helena leaned over and kissed the top of my head again before she stood up. “I’m going to go grab you an air mattress or something to tide you over,” she said. “Get your stuff set up.”
“Oh—you’re sure it’s fine?”
“As long as you don’t break any bottles this time.”
I groaned, slumping onto my back on the floor, my face in my hands. “Helena…”
She laughed, looking back through the doorway at me, light dancing in her eyes. “Be back in a bit. Faster than you know it.”
“You’re doing that on purpose!” I called after her as she disappeared around the corner, and she called back as she put her shoes on.
“I know!”
“Well, as long as we’re all on the same page,” I said, mostly to myself. I went like I was in a dream, going through my things to get it set up, my small wardrobe getting hung up on the rack Helena had brought in the room, and my personal care products set up in the bathroom on the opposite side of hers, and I blushed ridiculously just looking at the scene—Helena’s and my products, one on each side of the sink, all matchy.
Helena got back before long with a box under one arm, and I helped her haul out the air mattress and get it inflated at the edge of the room, and we dressed up the bed with her spare sheets. I took a shower, with her only mildly teasing me on the way, and when I was set up in my pajamas, sitting on the air mattress, Helena sat down on the floor next to me, her hand on my knee.
We were basically the same height with me sitting on the mattress and her on the floor. I’d never felt so tiny. But I think Helena liked it, so I wasn’t mad.
“Get some sleep,” she said. “And I mean it. We’re not doing anything in the morning.”
“We’ve got a lot we need to—”
“And we’ll do it,” she said, putting her finger on my lips, and well, that worked to make me stop talking. And to make me horny. That probably wasn’t her goal, but if it was, she was very effective. “But not in the morning. First, you need to get actual sleep.”
