You're All I Need (3 page)

“It looks pretty good. It's too much food for me, so I never order it. But I always wanted one.”

“Here.” Chris took the burger in his hands and held it out to her. “Have a taste.”

With the bun in her face, Tia didn't know what to do. She shook her head. “Oh, no. I can't take your food.”

“Of course you can. It's just a little bite. Come on. Enjoy!”

Tia wanted to say no. Eating his food seemed so intimate and personal. It was something you did with a partner, a lover, or a close friend. Tia was none of these, at least not to him. Again, this may be another cultural thing that she needed to learn.

With the burger in her face, she sank her teeth into the juicy beef. It was heavenly. She shut her eyes, savoring the taste. “Mmm!” Tia moaned. Opening her eyes, she found Chris's gaze on her. He smiled knowingly. Disconcerted, she drew away and grabbed her napkin, wiping her mouth. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” He placed the burger in its basket and pointed at her plate. “May I have a taste?”

“Oh! Sure.” She pushed the plate in his direction.

“No, no. Just give me a forkful.”

“Oh.” She wasn't sure she wanted him using her fork.

Smiling at her, Chris said, “You don't have to worry about germs. I'd never hurt you that way.”

Monday morning, Tia stood in the doorway to Adam's office. “Okay. I'll take care of it,” she assured Adam before shutting his door and crossing the office suite to Chris's door. She tapped lightly on the wood surface and waited.

“Entrez.”

Tia opened the door and entered the office. Chris sat at his desk with the daily newspaper spread across the surface. Excitement rippled through her. Instantly, guilt assaulted her. That feeling should be reserved for Darnell.

What is Chris up to now?
She pursed her lips, moved across the room, and stopped in front of him. “Good morning.”

After a quick glimpse in her direction, Chris returned to his paper. “Bonjour,” he muttered back.
“Vous avez besoin de quelque chose?”

She shook her head. “English!”

“Sorry. Do you need something?”

“Yes.” Tia ran her fingers through her hair and said, “Adam wants you at a meeting with Reynolds at two o'clock.”

“What are we discussing?” Chris glanced at her.

“The legal department's annual budget.”

Grimacing, he dropped the paper and picked up a pen, jotting the information on his calendar. “Oh,
oui.
Two o'clock. Reynolds's office. I'll be there.
Très bien.
Thanks.”

Reluctant to leave, Tia lingered, watching Chris for a moment. Absorbed in the paper, he failed to notice her. She stood, admiring the beauty of this handsome man as he turned the pages of his paper. Below the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, she watched the ripple of muscles as he moved.

He glanced up unexpectedly. She covered by asking, “What's all of this? You're not looking for a new job, are you?” She waved a hand across the desktop, noting that the newspaper sat open to the classified section.

A bit frazzled, Chris shrugged. “No. I'm searching for a place to live.”

Tia's eyebrows shot up. She struggled to keep the note of surprise out of her voice, but failed miserably. “You're apartment hunting?”

“Oui.”
Brows furrowed, he pointed at an ad in the newspaper. “I don't understand. This is so complicated. Where is Beverly Hills? In California?”

Laughing softly, she circled the desk and stood beside him, leaning close to his shoulder to read the classified ad. The warmth of his body caressed her skin. “Yes and no. There's a Beverly Hills, California, and a Beverly Hills, Michigan. So you were right. But not completely.”

Eyes squeezed shut, he massaged his temples.
“Expliquez, s'il vous plaît.
Explain please.”

Chris focused his pale blue eyes on her with a lost-puppy-dog expression that made Tia crumble. His need for help sucked her right in and tugged at her heart.

“I'm lost! Can you help me? I don't know this city.” He chuckled without humor. “Or country.”

Tia patted his arm. “Poor baby. Of course I'll help you. Let me see what you're doing here.”

Annoyed, Chris pointed at an apartment ad. “Is this a good place to live?”

“Mmm. That's Chesterfield. Why don't you look for something closer?” Tia pulled a chair around the desk and placed it next to Chris's. “I thought you liked the Marriott.”

“It was okay until this weekend. That place was a madhouse.” He ran a hand through his blond hair. “People were up and down the hallway Friday, Saturday, and most of Sunday. They partied and made all kinds of noise. No sleep all night.”

A closer inspection revealed Chris's eyes were red-rimmed, and his face looked haggard. “Did you call security?”

“
Oui,
a few times. They'd quiet down for a while and then start up all over again. It was nearly four o'clock on Sunday before things settled down. I can't have that. When I spoke with the manager, he said that it gets like this during play-off season.”

“That's rough.”

“It's time for me to get my own place.”

“Do you have an idea where you want to live?”

“No. I'm baffled. What do you suggest?” He turned an earnest gaze to her. “I trust you.”

She pressed her lips together, considering the options. “Chesterfield is so far away. Have you thought about staying closer to the office?”

He thought about it for a moment and then shook his head. “No. I've been living down here for a few weeks. I want to see more than downtown Detroit.”

“Do you want to go east or west?”

“Which is nicer?”

Sighing, Tia answered, “Both sides of town have good and bad areas. It depends on what you want.”

“What do you mean?”

“You've got a lot of options.”

Frowning, Chris said, “I don't understand. I want to live in a place that is quiet and safe.”

“That's important. Your apartment is where you'll be spending most of your free time. Do you want to be near a mall? Go to the movies? What about a gym? Are you a person who likes to cook or eat out a lot? All of those things matter when you're deciding where you want to live.”

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his face. “This is more difficult than I imagined.”

“It's time to explore,” Tia suggested. “You need to decide on a city and then check out the apartments in that area.”

Slowly nodding, he answered, “That makes sense. Will you come with me?”

“Sure. How about Saturday around ten?”
Darnell is not going to be happy about this,
Tia thought, envisioning his rage when she told him about this assignment.

“Sounds good.”

“Great. I'll pick you up at the hotel entrance.”

Chris took her hand and squeezed it. Physical awareness sizzled between them. An electrical current zinged its way down to her toes. “I appreciate you so much. Thank you for everything.”

“You're welcome.” Tia quickly put some distance between them as she rose from the chair and dragged it back to its place on the opposite side of the desk.

 

For most of the week, Tia and Chris spent their free time debating the merits of living on the east or west side of town. After many explanations, Tia finally convinced Chris to make the east side of town his first search location. Her rationale: going east would make it easier for him to get back and forth to work. Plus, she assured him that if he didn't find the type of apartment he wanted, they could continue their search on the west side.

On Saturday morning, Tia and Chris stood in front of a sprawling, two-story, brown brick apartment building that sat on a well-manicured lawn. Red, violet, pink, and white flowers sat beneath freshly trimmed shrubs. White shutters decorated the exterior of the windows at the front of the building.

Chris glanced at the ad in his hands. “‘Two-bedroom apartment located in the heart of Grosse Pointe Farms; easy access to downtown Detroit; safe, quiet neighborhood; park within walking distance and secured parking.'”

Impressed by what she saw, Tia turned to Chris. “What do you think?”

Nodding, he pressed his lips together for a moment and then answered, “I like the outside.”

“Me too.” She nudged her companion. “Come on. Let's take a look at the inside.”

Together they strolled up the curved walkway, pushed open a wooden door with an etched figure in the center of its frosted glass pane, and entered the foyer. Brown tile covered the floor, which contrasted with the tan and cream tiles decorating the walls. Metal mailboxes with apartment numbers and buzzers were secured into the wall that lined the tiny room. Without delay, Tia located and then rang the manager's apartment.

Minutes later, the door swung open and a plump, middle-aged woman in a floral house-dress and flip-flops greeted them. Her sharp, assessing eyes latched on to Chris, widening a fraction as she did a slow perusal downward. With an approving nod, she grinned back at him, ignoring Tia. She could tell the woman liked what she saw.

“You are?” she asked him, regaining her professional posture.

“Chris Jensen.” He captured her hand between both of his.

Flustered, the woman blushed and giggled. “I'm Mrs. DiAngelo, the landlady and manager.”

Trying not to laugh, Tia turned aside. It didn't matter what age or race of woman, Chris had a way of charming the ladies.

“Pleasure,” Chris added, dropping her hand. “We're here about the apartment.”

“Oh, yes. It's on the second floor.” The woman opened the door wider and waved Chris into the apartment building. “Come, come. I've got the keys with me.”

Tia slipped through the door before Chris. For the first time, Mrs. DiAngelo noticed Tia. The older woman's eyes narrowed. She glanced at Chris.

“This is Ms. Edwards.”

Mrs. DiAngelo nodded toward the younger woman. The warmth she exhibited toward Chris quickly shifted to cool wariness. Tia got the same once-over that Chris had received. It was instantly clear that she fell short of expectations. She smiled sweetly and trailed after Chris and the manager/landlady.

They climbed a series of stairs to the second floor. All the while, Mrs. DiAngelo chatted amicably with Chris while excluding Tia, who felt fine with this turn of events because it gave her a chance to take a better look at the building as they ascended the stairs.

The building was quiet, and every floor looked clean and well kept. As they headed down the hallway, the rubber soles of Mrs. DiAngelo's flip-flops slapped against the polished wood surface. She halted at an apartment door marked 201. Extracting a ring of keys from her pocket, she quickly found the one she wanted and turned the key in the lock.

“This is one of my favorite apartments. The previous tenant was transferred to Texas, so they had to move.”

The trio halted inside the apartment. Like the hallway and staircase, the apartment's highly polished hardwood floors were beautifully maintained. A narrow foyer led into the living room. Large bay windows overlooked the front of the building. Tia could see her SUV on the street below. Slowly, Chris strolled around the room, examining everything. He moved into the dining room and then checked out the kitchen.

Tia hung back, waiting in the center of the foyer near the entrance. She wanted Chris to establish his first impression of the apartment alone. She believed it was important for him to form his own opinion of the place without her input. After all, if he decided to sign a lease, he would be the one living here. Landlady and potential tenant slipped in and out of her view as they moved though the living room, dining area, and kitchen, asking each other questions and making comments. The pair returned to the living room where Tia watched them from her spot in the hallway.

“What are the move-in costs?” Chris folded his arms across his broad chest.

“First and last months' rent, plus a security deposit that equals the first month's rent,” Mrs. DiAngelo answered promptly. “A letter from your employer confirming your position will also be needed. Where do you work?”

“At the Renaissance Center.”

“Oh, this location is perfect for you.” She pointed toward the front of the building. “Shoot straight down Jefferson Avenue to downtown.”

“I see.”

The landlady perked up. “Are you French?”

“Oui.”

Mrs. DiAngelo pursed her lips. “Who is your employer?”

Chris paused as if debating whether to answer her question, and then he shrugged. “Gautier International Motors.”

“Mmm.” She nodded slowly. “I think I spoke with you. You're here for an indeterminate length of time, right?”

He nodded.

“I've heard of them. They're from France, right?”

“Correct.” Chris turned away, searching for Tia. He found her at the door and waved her to him. “Tia. What are you doing there? Come see.”

She sauntered down the hall and stood next to Chris. He touched her arm lightly and smiled down at her. “What do you think?”

“I like it. But the real question is, do you?”

Shrugging, he muttered, “Maybe.”

Tia moved across the living room to the fireplace. “This is beautiful.” She turned to the older woman. “Does it work?”

Frowning, Mrs. DiAngelo focused an unfriendly gaze on Tia. “And you are?”

Chris took a step closer to Tia, wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders, and grinned down at her. “We're friends.”

“Oh. Well, you do know that we only accept married couples. No living together or shacking up.”

Chris's pale gaze narrowed and he said, “That's not a concern of ours or yours.”

“Well, you do know that we don't tolerate a lot of loud noise. I don't want that loud, vulgar rap music seeping into the halls.”

“I don't listen to rap.”

Alarmed by the verbal attack, Tia took a step away, but Chris pulled her closer to his side.

The landlady's eyes narrowed and a sneer of disgust appeared on her face. “This is a quiet building. No fooling around or loud noise. The tenants who rent from me live here, but they take their partying elsewhere.” Mrs. DiAngelo stared directly at Tia as she spoke.

“Well, Mrs. DiAngelo, I think Tia and I will talk about this; then we'll be in touch.” Chris took Tia's hand and started for the door. “Thank you for showing us the apartment.”

The woman followed them out. “Why don't you take an application with you? That way when you come back, you'll be all set.”

He shook his head. “No. I'm fine. Thank you.”

They headed down the stairs and made their way out of the building. At her car, Tia turned to Chris and touched his arm. “What do you think?”

“Not for me.”

“Why? It looks pretty nice and clean.”

“I don't like the way that woman treated you,” Chris stated.

Tia shrugged, wanting to give Chris the impression that it didn't bother her. “It's not my business. I won't be living here. You will.”