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What I didn’t expect is how easily he’d take over at the apartment.
I only had one goal: put everything I could into clear garbage bags. I couldn’t think much beyond that. I knew how it would go. Angry apartment administrators. Another even shittier living situation for the twins. A long, long wait.
Not so, once Mr. Leblanc entered the picture.
He didn’t ask people to come put the apartment back together again on an impossible deadline. He told them they’d do it. Mr. Leblanc briskly agreed to pay triple the rates to more than one of the contractors he called. I never got the impression that any of them hesitated.
Movers showed up at two o’clock. Three people to take out the bags of clothes and books and the very small collection of ragged stuffed animals the twins have managed to keep. It was loaded into the back of Mr. Leblanc’s SUV in less than five minutes.
They’d just stepped out when two guys from the construction company came to survey the damage. I passed the cleaning team on the way out of the building. I bet they already have the broken plaster out of the living room.
“Is he nice?” Mia stares out the window at the city blocks rolling by.
Niceisn’t the word for Will Leblanc. Yes, we’re being driven to his apartment in a pristine SUV driven by a man in a suit. Yes, he’s miraculously summoned people to repair the apartment.
Yes, he blackmailed me instead of calling the police.
Nice?
“He’s very nice. And very busy. His work is very important to him.”
“We won’t get in the way,” Ben says.
“Yes, we will.” Mia rolls her eyes. “We’re always in the way.”
“You are notin the way. He invited us to stay with him, which wasvery nice.”
The driver pulls to the curb in front of an apartment building. My pulse ticks up. This is abuildingbuilding. There’s a valet out front. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were security guards inside.
“Okay. We’re here. Quiet voices in the lobby, okay?”
The twins are solemn as we go inside. They have the air of people entering a museum. Or a church. Mia stares up at the ceiling and its ornamental decorations. I head in the general direction of the front desk. There are two doormen behind a shining marble counter.
One of them steps toward us before I can launch into what’s surely a very awkward explanation. He wears a polite, open smile. “Ms. Anderson.”
“That’s me, yes. Hi.”
“Mr. Leblanc asked me to bring you up as soon as you arrived. This way, please.” He takes us to an elevator. When the doors are open, he steps inside with us and presses the button for Mr. Leblanc’s floor. My stomach drops as we’re whisked upward. What’s he like at home? Angry, like he is in the office? Charming, like he was at dinner?
The elevator lets us off. The doorman leads us to a door and knocks three times. A short pause, and then it opens.
The Will Leblanc it reveals isn’t the one from the officeorthe dinner. He’s wearing jeans and a dark green long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.
He has a dish towel in one hand.
When he sees me, his face brightens. My heart skips a beat. This is the smile I wondered about at the restaurant. A real one. His eyes have never looked so blue.
“Bristol.” Mr. Leblanc steps out into the hallway. “And these are your siblings?”
“This is Mia.” I put my hand on the top of her head. “And Benjamin.”
Mr. Leblanc offers his hand to shake. Mia, then Ben. “I’m Will Leblanc. Most people call me Will. You can, too. Do you like Benjamin or Ben?”
“Ben.” Ben stares up at Mr. Leblanc like he’s a god. “But some people call me Benjamin anyway.”
“Those people should learn some manners. And you go by Mia?”
Mia nods, silent.
