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"Shit, those poor kids," Christopher mutters. "How can I help?"
This unexpected offer warms my heart, and when I speak next, my voice catches. "I don't know that you can. I talked to our therapist, and she says it's an expected reaction in kids after they lose their parents, more so because Lucas and Chloe know they were adopted. They're afraid of being abandoned. But she also said that I'm doing a great job providing them with a safe environment, and that it's important to carry on with my life."
"I didn't know you all see a therapist," he says gently. His voice is like a balm, slipping through the cracks dug by my fears and insecur
ities.
"We started going right after the funeral, and it's helping. I'm trying to do the right thing, but how do I do that when I don't even know what the right thing is?" I take a deep breath, and that's when I realize how much I shared with him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to dump all this on you."
"I'm glad you did. Listen, let's not overthink this. Let's just let the pieces fall in their place."
"You don't strike me as the kind of man who lets things happen. You're the kind who makes them happen."
"It's true. But I hadn't planned on you entering my life, and so far, I've been pleasantly surprised. Besides, who said I won't have a hand in how those chips will fall?"
"What's that hand entailing, Bennett?" I can't help the grin spreading on my face.
"Hot looks, shameless flirting."
Oh my. Considering this man can set my body ablaze even with a regular look, there's nothing safe in store for me.
"Still with me?"
"Yeah," I whisper.
"Proper kissing and showcasing some of my other seduction techniques. Just giving you a heads-up."
I am officially a bundle of desire, waiting to be unwrapped. A shiver runs through me as I imagine Christopher doing just that. Racking my mind, I attempt a witty comeback, but all I come up with is "How generous of you."
"Have a good night Victoria. I certainly will."
Chapter Thirteen
Victoria
Over the next week, I don't meet Christopher again, but we do text a few times a day, and the man is constantly on my mind. I ordered the furniture for all his rooms except the kitchen. Since that one is custom made, it's best to measure it. I have the blueprint of the apartment, of course, but I always like to see the space. For one, because nothing is as inspiring as seeing a new place and imagining all the ways I can transform it into a home. And second, because actual measurements sometimes differ from the plan, and in some spaces, such as the kitchen, I can’t run that risk. Christopher will receive the keys to his apartment on Monday afternoon at four o'clock. My goal is to be there at ten past four to measure the kitchen and then call the store to place the order.
On Monday morning, I find out there's a hitch in Christopher's moving plans. The builders discovered a problem on the fourth and the ninth floors, and consequently, they're delaying the key handover for a week. What that means is I can go only to take measurements in one week, then place the order for the kitchen furniture. Well, this simply won't do. I gave my word to Christopher that he'll be able to move in on a certain date, and I will make sure all of his furniture is in the apartment by then.
"It's not such a big deal," he assures me. "I can move in even if the kitchen isn't there yet."
"Moving into an unfinished apartment is like eating a cake without sugar," I argue. "It tarnishes the entire experience."
"I can move in later, then."
But I know how much he dislikes the rental he lives in now, and I want him to be happy.
"I’ll handle this. It's a promise."
And handle I do. Over the years, I've learned there is a back door to everything, from convincing suppliers to speed up an order, to gaining access to a building which is technically still under construction. The back door to the latter is the construction site superintendent. He has a copy of the keys for each of the apartments for the entire duration of the construction process.
A quick research tells me who the superintendent is in this case, and after half a dozen phone calls, I finally reach him. After a short conversation, I convince him to let me in for no more than fifteen minutes so I can do measurements, and then I call Christopher.
"Guess who's going to your apartment to take measurements today?"
"How did you do that? I tried to bribe, threaten, and blackmail the guy I talked to and he wouldn't budge."
"I have my tactics," I say proudly, hurrying to my car. I’m downtown, having just visited an antique shop for one of my clients. The sound of cars, horn blares, and the usual city noise fills the air, so I press the phone to my ear as I hurry to cross the street. "Which include none of the above. It's called being nice to people. You should try it sometime. I'll call you to report everything once I'm done."
