The Arrogant Architect (4 page)

A week of noise, annoyance, and avoidance, that pretty much
sums up my life since King bought the building next door and started
restorations. Leaving me feeling more uncomfortable and confused than ever.

I haven’t seen him since our last interaction on the street
when I touched his lips, or talked to him since I hung up on him and I’m not
sure how I feel about that. But I’m sure I was only a prize he was trying to
win, and the feeling of defeat, particularly for a man, is hard to swallow.
Especially a man like King–yes, he’s undeniably gorgeous. But other than that,
he lacks normal human skills, like compassion, and respect. And for some
strange reason he likes me…or acts like it. But now, I’m sure he’s off prowling
the next woman that turns his head. Honestly I have no clue why I ever did.

My phone rings, and I set down the tub of ice cream that I’m
sulking my worries away into. Internally, I hope it’s him. I guess so I can
hear his voice, then yell at him. Damn, I'm all over the place. But it’s
Mistee. “Hey, girl.”

“Oh fuck, Ever.” She is panicked and I don’t like it,
something has to be majorly wrong.

“What’s the matter?”

“Promise you won’t judge me?”

I roll my eyes to myself and tell her, “I can’t make any
promises.”

“God, you’re such a snatch.”

“Whatever. So tell me, what’s up? What’s got your panties
all in a twist?”

“Ross has my panties…literally. We fucked.”

I tilt my head– surely I heard her wrong.“Gross, please tell
me you are lying.”

“Oh…I’m not, it happened.”

“Why? Why would you do that?”

“Come on, he’s cute. Plus, he’s been an über dick to you
lately, so I thought we’d give him a taste of his own medicine.”

I’m afraid to ask what she is referring to…but I have to.
“What do you mean?”

“Now you can blackmail him, tell him you know we fucked, and
maybe he’ll start treating you with some respect.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No. Think about it, Ever. This could really work; it can
give you the leverage you need.”

“Mistee, that’s not the kind of leverage I want.”

“Well, what ideas do you have? Because the way I see it,
you’re about to get demoted to washing dishes.”

“Do you realize how crazy your idea is? You cannot be
serious.”

“I fucked our boss; how much more serious do I need to be?”

“You need to see a doctor and get some help ‘cause I think
you’re losing it. Please, keep your dirty panties on from now on and let me
handle this. I’m not the kind of person who blackmails someone.”

“Suit yourself. It’s the last time I do you a favor. Oh and
have fun washing dishes.”

“I didn’t ask you to sleep with him, he’s old and…” I push
away the disgusting image of her and Ross together. “Goodbye, Mistee.” I hang
up, completely baffled by her way of trying to help. But it is Mistee I’m
talking about, and she’s got a few screws loose.

Throwing the rest of the melted ice cream in the trashcan, I
hear someone outside my door. Looking out the peephole, I don’t see anyone.
Cracking the door open, I look down the hallway in either direction, but no one
is there. I swear I heard someone. As I’m closing the door, I spot something on
the ground that catches my eye. Lying on my doormat is a single white rose and
a tiny gift bag. Looking in the bag, there is a card that reads,
Starting
some demo tomorrow, thought you could use these.

Looking up at me is a pair of earplugs, which probably cost
five hundred dollars or some astronomical amount of money. And the son of a
bitch still hasn’t apologized. Walking downstairs, I look for him to throw
these at and notice he’s returned my bike after holding it hostage for almost a
week. Knowing he likes to linger, I assume he’s still here. But everything is
quiet, silent. Tossing the rose and ear buds into the dumpster, I walk back
inside.

I’m infuriated with him thinking he can control me and tell
me what to do all the time. Fuck him and everything he is. Slamming my door
shut, I go straight to bed. So over everything from the day. Reaching for my
lamp, a letter from my mom on my nightstand closes with,
Always be yourself,
my darling
. Turning the light off, I close my eyes and savor the silence,
comforted by her words. That is what I have been doing and what I will continue
to do.

Sleep evades me as the day churns in my mind, then my phone
chimes but I ignore it, assuming it’s only Mistee again. Plus, I don’t want to
add fuel to my mental fire. Then it chimes again and again.

What the hell?

Ripping the covers off me, I see three text messages from a
number I don’t recognize. Right away…I sense it’s King.

I left you a present at your door, make sure you get it
before you go to bed.

I figure texting is best, we seem to argue in person.

How are you? I’ve missed seeing you lately. 

I saw your gift and it’s already in the trash.

Why?

Why do you always ask why?

Why do you always avoid answering me?

I don’t.

Sure you do. Like now, tell me why?

He’s pressing me, nagging at me to do something that I don’t
want to. Trying to take my control away and I don’t agree with it. Where do I
even start with him? That’s it, I don’t.
Good night, King.

No. Don’t. You did this shit the other day. Why won’t you
open up to me, what happened to you?

Nothing fucking happened to me. What happened to you?

Nothing. Would you answer my question?

No, I won’t. Did you ever think maybe I don’t like
you? I don’t know you and I don’t owe you
shit.        

What don’t you like about me?

Taking my phone to bed as I realize that I am standing in
the middle of my living room, I ignore him. He’ll stop…he has to.

You didn’t like my shoes, I threw them away and they were
my favorite. I bought you every color of bike I could think of. What else can I
do?

Nothing. We are polar opposites. I really don’t care
about your shoes, or the bikes, or anything. I just want to be left alone.

Why?

For the love of God, King, would you stop asking me
that?

No, I won’t, not until you answer me.

I don’t need to answer you. I’m not yours and I don’t
like you.

I wait for the wrath of what’s next, staring at my screen,
refreshing and refreshing it. But he never responds. I guess that’s all it
took. Now he knows. I am not his and I’m not into him. Now I don’t have to
worry any longer. But the thought of things being over, even though they
haven’t really started, is unsettling in a way. Maybe I need to answer his
questions for myself…maybe there’s more to what I’m feeling than I’m letting
on.

Not a minute past 7:00am and the noise next door starts.
God, he really must want to piss me off. Tossing my pillow over my ear, I want
to cry. I barely slept last night with all the stress at work and everything
King has been doing lately, and today I really wanted to sleep in and enjoy
some peace and quiet. But, that’s not going to happen obviously.

Peering out from under the pillow, I grab my phone off my
nightstand to do some aimless web surfing, maybe it’ll keep me distracted.
Going into my favorite celebrity gossip app, I quickly get swallowed up in the
crazy news that is the life of the rich and famous, but even focusing on this
can’t quiet the banging coming from outside.

Closing out the app, I decide to turn some music on and drag
my tired ass out of bed. Peering outside to see if I can see King’s car parked
on the street, it’s not there and I find a pang of disappointment at the void.
I’m not even sure why I looked. Frustrated at only myself for being so
wishy-washy when it comes to him.

I walk into the bathroom; maybe a shower can clear my head.
But on the way, I find a paper sticking out underneath my door.

Picking it up, the world around me spins. Everything that I
thought

was so terrible…really isn’t. I can’t believe the words that
are on the paper I’m holding. 

NOTICE OF TERMINATION BY LANDLORD

NOTICE TO
: Everly
Adams, TENANT in possession and all others:

Address of Premises: 1888
Rawlings Avenue, Unit 2-B

TAKE NOTICE THAT:

1.
    
Pursuant to a written lease (the “Lease”) dated January 12, 2016, you
are a tenant for the premises described as: 1888 Rawlings Avenue, Unit 2-B (the
“Premises”), of which you now hold possession.

2.
    
The building was recently sold to All Designs Architecture, for the
purpose of restoration as they deem fit. All leases and tenants transferred
with this sale.

3.
    
Your Lease or the applicable laws of the State of Rhode Island require
that you be given seven days advance notice prior to the termination of your
Lease or tenancy. This Notice of Termination serves as notification of the
termination of your Lease.

4.
    
Pursuant to your Lease and the said laws, you are hereby given notice
that the Landlord is exercising its right to terminate your lease effective on
the 7
^th
day of August, 2016, and you are required to vacate the
Premises at or before noon on this date.

5.
    
All terms and obligations in the Lease, including, but not limited to,
the obligation to pay rent, remains in effect until the latter of the 7
^th
day of August, 2016 and when you have returned possession of the Premises to
the Landlord or its agent.

Bracing my weight on the wall, I blink a few times, trying
to figure out how this could have happened. And more importantly, how I can fix
it. Charging back into my room, I snatch my phone off my bed and dial my
landlord. If they really sold the building and this isn’t some stunt that King
is pulling, then I want answers.

“Hello?” my landlord, Charlie, answers right away, and I do
my best to stay calm.

“Charlie, this is Ever, from apartment 2-B. Why did I just
get an eviction notice that says I have seven days before I have to vacate?”

“Oh no, did they already serve those? I barely left the
closing thirty minutes ago.”

“So you really sold the building?”

“I did.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Ever, I’m very sorry. I was going to come and talk to all
my tenants today. The company told me they were giving everyone sixty days. Are
you sure it says seven?”

“Yes,” I shout and he goes silent. “I’m sorry, but I’m
really freaking the fuck out here.”

“I completely understand. Let me call them and see what I
can do. I’ll call you right back.”

“Thanks.”

We hang up, my heart pounding as I sit on the edge of my
bed, so scared at the thought that I’ll actually have to leave my home. I love
it here. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, even with the noise next
door. Looking out the window again, his car still isn’t there and I have this
sickening feeling that he did this. Maybe he owns this other architecture
company and is doing this to get back at me.

My knee is bouncing up and down, I am so upset. I don’t know
what to do. Needing answers and to simply take out my frustrations on someone,
I call King. I have to know if he is behind this. His phone rings and rings,
then finally he answers.

“I knew you’d come to your senses,” his voice is serious.

“Save it, King. I’m not in any fuckin’ mood for your
antics.”

“No?” he questions me and I lie back on my bed, exhaling as
I search for the words…any words.

“What are you wearing?” he asks.

“Could you try and be serious for once in your life?”

“I could try…but I don’t want to.”

Knowing there is no nice way to accuse someone of something
like this, I flat out ask him, “Did you buy my building?”

“No, why?”

“Please don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not, why would you ask me that?”

“’Cause I got an eviction notice that says I have seven days
to move out.”

“Did you call your landlord?”

“Of course I did. He confirmed he sold…but said I was
supposed to get sixty days. Still…I don’t get why?”

“Does the notice say who bought the building?”

“All Designs Architecture.”

“Let me handle this.”

“No, that’s not what I want. I’ll handle it, I only wanted
to see if you were behind it.”

“Do you really think I’d kick you out of your house?”

“I don’t know, King, but please don’t get in the middle of
this. I’ll handle it.”

_____

“Ever,” my dad exclaims, excited and very surprised that I
drove all the way over to his house.

“Hey, Dad. How are you?”

“I’m fine.” He stands from his desk, and I give him a hug,
doing my best to hide the anxiety that is lurking beneath. I don’t want him to
worry about me, but I need his advice on this whole housing situation.

“Are you off today?”

“Yeah…I…I need to talk to you.”

“Of course, have a seat.”

I sit in the little chair that is opposite his desk. The
eviction notice is in my hand. “Here,” I pass it to him. “I got this today.”

Very gingerly, he opens it and I can see the confusion right
away on his face as he reads it.

“Why? I don’t understand.”

“Me neither. I called Charlie and he said he sold the
building.”’

“Why would he do that?”

“I didn’t ask. I wish I would’ve, because now I can’t get a
hold of him. He said the company told him they were going to give all the
tenants sixty days. But this letter says otherwise.”

“Ever, I don’t see how this is legal.”

“Dad, I feel the same, but the paper is notarized and
Charlie said he sold.”

“Is it the same company that bought the building next door
to you?”

“No, I spoke to that owner and he knows nothing, although he
says he wants to help. But—”

“But what? You’re going to let him help you, right?”

“I don’t know, Dad, the owner is that guy who got me kicked
out of work and is a little crazy.”

“Then he owes it to you.”

I can’t help but laugh at my dad. My back is against the
wall, and neither of us knows shit about legal documents, so unfortunately
turning to King might be the only option…or moving…and imagining leaving my
home sickens me.

“I’ll figure it out, I might ask him for help. Thank you for
your opinion.”

“Of course, Ever, you know…you’re welcome here, if you
want?”

I’m grateful to my dad, but looking around at his office, or
more like his shrine to my mom, makes me sad. Beyond the logistical issue of
how far away my dad lives that would make my commute an utter nightmare, I’m
not sure I could handle moving back in here and all the reminders that would
come along with it. I’ve worked hard to let her go and put myself in a good
place, focusing on my work and getting through each day the best that I can…but
still seeing the pain in my dad’s eyes makes me worry that coming back here
could set me back.