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Her hands are trembling as she speaks, and I have to keep my cool. The last thing she needs is to havemescare her with my temper. I would never direct my anger at her, but she might not see that.
“It was like we were putting on this little skit for the security staff. Bryan tried to play it off like everything was fine, called mehoney, told me to come upstairs with him. I should have told them he tried to attack me! Why didn’t I tell them to call the cops?”
“You were trying to deescalate the situation and get out of there.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know what made the guard do it, but he escorted me to my car and sent Bryan upstairs, and I left.”
“That was when you called me?”
She nods.
“You should be proud of yourself. You did great today.”
“My parents are going to say I made a mistake, a poor financial decision.”
Taking her face in my hands, I peer down at her wide brown eyes. They’re so full of uncertainty. I can’t imagine what she must be feeling.
“You are not making a mistake. You can do this.”
She nods, her lip trembling. I stare at it for what feels like minutes, then drop my hands. “I’ll help however I can. Staying here is the safest place for you. It’s gated and secure. There’s an apartment above the garage, private entrance and everything. It’s not massive, but you’ll have your own space.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It is, Jordan. At least for now. Leaving is when you’re most vulnerable. I don’t care that you’re here, really. Stay a few days, at least until you figure out what you want to do.”
How could I have not seen what was happening? It makes me sick I was almost the best man at this woman’s funeral. I know this shit up, down, backward, and forward. The signs were there, but I ignored them.
“I’ll pay rent.”
“All I ask is you don’t go back to him. He’s going to tell you everything you want to hear to make you come back. Don’t.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Do women go back to their abusers because they still love them?”
“Sometimes, yeah. Or because they’ve been made totally dependent on them without realizing it. They’ve been manipulated financially. Sometimes kids are involved. There’re a million different reasons.”
She looks down at her scone and picks off a piece. When she glances back up and meets my gaze, her expression tells me love won’t be an issue for her.
Was their entire relationship staged? Jordan explained their arrangement was somewhat transactional, but I didn’t realize he took it so literally. She was another thing for him to own. Before this mess, I thought he loved her.
“Come on, I’ll give you a tour and show you the apartment.”
I start with the kitchen since that’s where she’s sitting. Opening the cabinets and drawers, I show her where all the pots, pans, tools, and other cooking shit are. The apartment space has a kitchenette, but it’s bare bones. In the butler pantry, I tell her if there’s anything she needs, to add it to the grocery list. I demo by using the smart home assistant to add apple scones to the grocery list.
“I don’t keep a ton of food in the house since I travel a lot, but Raquel, the house manager, usually restocks on Thursdays. She’s here a couple times a week, don’t freak out if you see her around.”
She follows me. “Mud room.” The spacious laundry room houses two sets of washers and dryers lined on one wall with a deep utility sink and countertops. Two walls are mostly cabinets and storage. A large square island countertop sits in the center of the room. I show her that the second door on the adjacent wall opens a powder room.
“Laundry is on Mondays and Thursdays. Want me to have your clothes added to the schedule?”
“No”—she shakes her head—“I can handle my own laundry. I won’t be here too long. I only need to crash until I get an apartment lined up.”
I nod, not liking that answer. In the living room, I show her the touchscreen remotes. She has the same ones, so there’s no demo needed. “The home theater on the lower level is better for movies. Same A/V system. There’s also a bar, pool table, et cetera. Feel free to hangout down there if you’re bored.” I point to a secluded cased opening off the main living space. “My bedroom is through there.”
After showing her the other main level bathrooms, I steer us up the curved staircase.
“Spare bedrooms on this side, and over here...” We cross the catwalk to the other side, and I guide her to the short hallway leading to the L-shaped bonus apartment over the garage.
She’s hardly said a word the whole tour. I might as well be talking to myself.
