AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I take a deep breath. “Well, yes and no.” I look her in the eyes.
Oh, I’d better get this out fast.
“Well, you know how the foyer of this building is pretty recently remodeled? And you've seen my own studio of course, and I've upgraded a lot in there. Well, there's only one way I could have done that, and that was by purchasing the building. There are four other residents in the building with me. All elderly. When I bought the building some years ago, I never raised the rents on them like other landlords in the neighborhood would have done.”
Beatrice seems to like that move.
“My dad encouraged me on this. In fact, he said it might be a nice retirement plan for me. That's before I sold the company ...”
And Beatrice interrupted me with a grin saying, “... and became a stinkin’ billionaire!”
Jeevers! Maybe she's taking this okay after all.
I finish my story, “So the lady in the rear studio on my floor has just contacted me through her children to say that she's moving into a long-term care facility. She's having more and more trouble getting by on her own and is moving out.”
I search Beatrice’s gorgeous face. “Sooooo, my beautyyyyy ...”
“Yeeeees, my sweeeeeeet?” She gives me back my hesitation and I'm pretty sure she knows where I'm going with this.
“Empty your brain on my lap about this, my sweetness,” she urges me.
“Well. I own the building and that other studio apartment is slightly bigger than mine so it would more than double my space. That is, only if I tore down the wall between the two studios and did some other stuff. But I’d have to go live at the Ritz or tour Europe while it’s being done since I can’t live here.”
She had that panicky look again but I plod ahead, “What do you think, my beauty?”
I’m stunned when she wails, “Noooo! Don’t leave me!” and she fell into my arms sobbing.
Awww,fiddlesticks! Maybe my Lady Fairdoesn’tknow where I’m going with this!
Chapter 56
Epilogue Beatrice: One Year Later
Ihavetolaugh.MyMystery Music Man Professor Billionaire Geek Apartment Building Ownerand all his secrets can really stir me up!
I'm thinking back to when I thought he was breaking up with me. He was only proposing totake mewith himto Europe for six weeks on a vacation! We’d be gone while a construction crew overseen by one of Jared’s very own men renovated the first floor of Hendrik’s building.
Part of our trip was on vacation time with pay that I had coming, and my brand new department head granted me the extra time off on my own dime.
Hendrik reminded me that I didn’t need to worry about getting my paycheck. I’d given up my studio, for one thing, and was able to save all the rent I used to pay. He looked at me with mock despair, “You know I’ve got all this stinkin’ money. Holy Guacamole, Beatrice! You’re not to have any worries about money, all right?Not. Ever. Again.Besides…"and he got a devilish look in his eyes, "This trip and the rest of our lives is on MetriCooks’ tab, but not the way they think!”
That made me laugh. MetriCooks was the source of his billions and my paycheck, so 'Metri-Cooks was On-The-Hooks' became how we joked our trip would be paid. We laughed and laughed about that irony.
Mom was really excited for me to go to Europe since I'd had a passport since college and had only used it to go to Montreal. “BB, take lots of pictures!” I promised a phlog (an emailedphoto log, as I had to explain to my “no speakie the geekie” mom) every evening.
When we got back from biking all over Holland ("My, my, BB! Holland is so … flat!"), hiking all over Ireland ("Ohhh, BB, I'veneverseen that shade of green!"), trying out the double-decker buses (Great Guns, BB! Did you feel it sway around the corners?"), the cabs ("Almost like a city limo!"), and the Underground in London ("It'show farunderground??!"), and gawking at the architecture in Glasgow ("Old, old, old!"), the studio expansion work was complete.
When we pulled up (driven by Trey who couldn’t wait to be the one to show off the work that was done to the place), Hendrik’s place was move-in ready.“Not my place,my Lady.Ours. Ourplace, my beauty!”
I told Hendrik (and as always when speaking of his wealth, out of earshot of anyone), “It has to be a miracle, bought and paid for with some of that money you seem to have sitting around stinkin’ up the place!” I was joking but still curious, “How did they do this so quickly?”
“They worked ‘round the clock is how.”
We have lived here for nearly six months with great enjoyment. Then the mysteries were back to haunt me.
And I know how to investigate this particular one!
One evening, with my mystery solved, I pulled myself onto Hendrik’s lap after he put his acoustic guitar down. He had serenaded me for almost an hour. I snuggled up to his ear and whispered, “My sweet, you know how I hate a mystery, wrapped in a secret, drenched in an enigma, right?”
He looked at me with anxiety. I could see clearly written on his face that he didn't have any more mysteries … or … secrets … or enigmas of his own!
I laughed and laughed in his neck.
Then I looked him right in the eye and gave him a deep, deep close kiss. Eyes wide open with love.
“We’re going to need to spend some more of your stinkin’ money, my sweet. Our newly-remodeled place won’t be big enough …” and I put his hand on my belly, “… for the three of us.”
