I looked away, controlling the flush of emotions. “Yeah, we’re cool.”
“Good. Get to work now.”
“Yeah, says the model employee.” I gathered myself together and looked at him.
He was grinning ear to ear. “I held this place together and you know it.”
“Sure, whatever Noah,” I said, smiling and turning to walk away.
“You’re drowning here without me,” he called out.
“Keep telling yourself that,” I responded sweetly. He gave me one final grin, then turned and walked up the stairs.
It felt good, strange but shockingly good, to banter with him again, even if things were still broken between us. I was overjoyed that he had already started working his steps. I wasn’t exactly ready for optimism yet, but I was a little hopeful. He had agreed to my rules, and seemed ready to move forward.
I was sure there were surprises coming for me, but I wasn’t afraid of them.
Chapter Twenty-One
Noah picked me up in his car and drove us through the Saturday traffic down toward Miss Havisham’s apartment. He wore a stylish button down white linen shirt, a light black jacket, slim jeans, and black sunglasses. I had to admit, he looked a lot better than he did the last time he had showed up at my place. I climbed into his car, and he pulled out into traffic.
“Listen, let me do the talking,” he said after a few minutes of idle chatting.
I looked at him. I liked it when he got down to business. The wind whipping through his hair combined with the early morning sun made him look elegant and gruff at the same time. I couldn’t have explained to anyone in the world what exactly I saw when I looked at him, but it was something that was difficult to ignore.
“Why, don’t trust me?”
He glanced at me. “Maybe.”
I laughed. “I’m not going to ruin this, relax.”
“I know, dots. But just trust me and let me take point.”
I sighed. “Fine, but if she says no, we’re screwed.”
“Don’t talk to me about screwing, I’ll get distracted.”
I smacked his arm lightly, but I felt myself smiling. It was good to be the object of his attention again, even if that attention was both confusing and painful at the same time. I wanted more jokes, and couldn’t help but imagine his strong arms pinning mine above my head as he thrust inside of me. Blushing, I looked away, out the window at the brown buildings flashing by.
Finally, he caught a parking space between two huge trucks, and deftly slipped his small car into the spot. We climbed out and began walking down the block.
“She’s just ahead,” he said.
We stopped in front of a door set into the wall next to a Chinese restaurant, with a small stoop and a white buzzer. The door was painted red and white and a small Native American dream catcher hung from a nail in its upper corner. I gave Noah a look, and he just shrugged. She was totally the kind of woman to have that hanging outside of her apartment. He hit the button, and a second later Miss H invited us up. We climbed a short set of stairs, and walked into her apartment.
Miss Havisham lived in a small one-bedroom apartment in south Philadelphia set above a row of shops. Since her place was above a Chinese restaurant, the smell of cooking meats wafted up through her floor. At first, it was a little weird, but I got used to it pretty fast. In fact, I figured it would be pretty convenient. I’d have gained at least twenty pounds if I lived there. The area around her place was pretty decent, though I could only imagine how long of a commute she had to get to Temple every day. There weren’t any subway stops convenient to her place as far as I knew. It gave me a new found respect for Miss H, knowing how she lived.
She gave Noah and me a hug, and led us into the living room. Her place was decorated in what my mom would have called “shabby scholar chic.” There were paintings on every wall in all different styles with different frames, books and papers stacked on every table, an assortment of statues and houseplants, at least one or two cats hanging around, plenty of color everywhere, and a huge collection of movies on DVD stacked up around her old television. It was simultaneously exactly what I had pictured and completely unlike anything I had ever seen.
In some ways, it reminded me a lot of my dad’s study, at least in how cluttered it was, and we were forced to clear off spaces on the couch in order to sit down. Miss H left us there and went into the kitchen to make some tea. Noah gave me a look, leaned in, and whispered in my ear.
“I wonder if anyone has sat here in years,” he said.
I stifled a laugh. “Probably only cats and books,” I said back.
“I can practically feel the couch protesting.”