Layla Emma is more than happy to move into Leif’s apartment. It cuts her commute down to ten minutes via subway, she says, but there’s a glimmer in her eyes when Leif and I pick her up from our place in New Jersey the next day. Somehow, I don’t think the commute is the main reason she’s happy about this development. She’s probably hearing wedding bells in that addled, too-big brain of hers. “We should have Grandma and Grandpa over for dinner,” she says when we walk into the vast space. She walks to the huge plate-glass windows overlooking bustling, hectic streets. “They’d love this. You could introduce them to Leif too.” “Sounds great,” Leif says before I can come up with some excuse why introducing this man to my entire family is a terrible idea. It’s not that I don’t want Leif to meet my grandparents, it’s just that this all seems like too much, too fast. I’m not technically working for him anymore, but I’m working for his mother. We’ll be living rent-free in an apartment that probably costs... Actually, I don’t even have a conc ept of how much this place would cost. More than I’ll ever have, that’s for sure. Because I have to stop working my other jobs in order to plan Mrs. Sorensen’s anniversary party, it means not only are my finances completely reliant on the Sorensens, now my housing is, too. As someone who’s always been ind ependent, it makes me squicky to be this reliant on someone else—especially a man. But as Leif shows Emma to her room, I take a de ep breath. It’s just temporary. My apartment isn’t exactly livable, and this works for everyone. Plus, it’ll help to have more room. I can set up a little office in the corner, and Emma will have a dedicated space to study in the library. Oh yeah, because this place has its own library. I didn’t notice that when Leif was tearing my clothes off the other night. “You ready to head to the hospital?” Leif asks, sliding his hand over my lower back. I nod. We both got texts from Emil and Dani announcing the arrival of their little one just after five o’clock in the morning, including invitations to come meet the baby. I gather my bag, call out a goodbye to Emma, and follow Leif out the door. Elton drives us to the hospital, and a twinge of fear makes me pause. What if I get used to this kind of luxury? The driver, the fancy car, the gorgeous home? What if when it ends—because it will end—it makes me realize how hard my life was before, and it all becomes unbearable? I’ve always been ind ependent. I’ve always made things work. But being here makes me realize how dismal my life has truly been. I’m rich in relationships and love and friendship, but there’s so much... drudgery. Life for me has been hard. What if once I see how good things could be, the hardship just becomes too much? Leif’s hand slides over my thigh as we drive along busy Manhattan streets. “I can relax now,” he says in a low rumble.
“Because Dani had the baby?” He huffs a laugh. “No. Because you’re living in a safe place. Somewhere I can take care of you properly.” There’s a note in his voice that makes me turn to look at him, something tender, wistful. His eyes meet mine, and the softness in his expression makes my heart seize. Desperately, I want this. Him. Us. But I know it’ll be a disaster. If I give him my heart, when this all ends, it’ll break me. Hell, it hurt me when he forgot I was his waitress for one short night once upon a time. How will I survive when he forgets about me after taking care of me so well? I give him a tight smile. “I can take care of myself.” His hand squeezes my thigh, and we drive the rest of the way in silence. Dani’s son Liam is gorgeous. Well, he’s very squishy and scrunched up, but he’s so tiny and precious that I can’t help cooing over him like everyone else in the room. My heart gives a sharp lurch at the sight of the tiny newborn, and for the first time in my life I... want that. A baby of my own. But how can I think of that when I can hardly take care of the people that already need me? Marcus is there and he gives me a strange, hard look before arching his brows at Leif. Emil’s parents come with his other kids, and the mood in the room is euphoric. When Leif and I leave together an hour later, he drives me back to the Midtown apartment and kisses me tenderly. Hope flutters its delicate wings inside me, because I think things might finally get better for me. The next day, Monday, I have a meeting with two lawyers who are interested in r epresenting my grandparents. Grandma and Grandpa meet me at the lawyer’s office, and we sit in a glass-walled conference room while we review the particulars of the case. The lead lawyer, a woman in a brown suit with harsh, straight eyebrows, looks me square in the face and tells me it’ll be very difficult to win this case. If the city is siding with the developers, there are only limited avenues we can take to fight them. I glance at my grandfather, who has his arms crossed and a bullish expression on his face, then I turn back to the woman. “We have to try.” She nods. “Then we will.” My bank account cries fat, angry tears. When the meeting is over, I hug my grandparents and invite them over for dinner. My grandmother’s jaw drops when she walks into Leif’s apartment, and she immediately makes a beeline for the kitchen. I text Leif to invite him and Isla over for dinner (at Emma’s insistence), and that evening, the six of us sit around the huge dining table and share one of my grandmother’s delicious home-cooked meals. She makes a roast chicken with stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, and roasted veggies. Everything is succulent and delicious. After dinner, Emma pulls out little coupes of chocolate mousse she made earlier “during a study break.” Isla charms my grandparents within minutes of arriving, of course. So does Leif. When he compliments my grandmother’s stuffing, her smile gets so bright I can’t help but let my lips curl in response. After we’ve wound down for the evening—with no talk of lawyers of developers, as decreed earlier by my grandfather—Leif has Elton drive them back home.
Emma disappears into the library and Isla follows her, and Leif and I are alone. He slides his hands over my jaw and tilts my head, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “Thank you,” he says. “For what?” “For tonight.” “My grandmother and Emma cooked. I didn’t do anything.” “You invited me.” He kisses me again, rubbing his nose against mine in a touch that feels somehow more intimate than anything before. “It felt like a real family dinner. I loved it. This apartment has never had that kind of energy in it.” My heart squeezes and I wonder if maybe Leif’s life isn’t so perfect as it seems on the outside. Maybe I can provide something to this relationship—some sort of normalcy, an intimacy he’s been missing. Maybe this complicated mess of being his employee and his lover and his mother’s event planner... Maybe he’s right. We’ll figure it out. Hooking my arms around his neck, I de epen the kiss until the sound of little footst eps makes us draw apart. Isla appears at the mouth of the hallway, informing us that it’s time for her to go home if she’s going to make it to her before-school swimming lessons tomorrow morning. Leif checks his watch and his brows jump, then he gives me an apologetic smile. “My eight-year-old daughter is more responsible than I am.” “That’s news to no one,” I quip, and Leif laughs. After a hug with Isla and one last kiss with Leif, I watch them leave. All the dishes are washed, but I find myself in the kitchen with a tea towel, drying everything and putting it away. My mind runs through the last week or so, r eplaying all the events that led me here. This thing between Leif and me... It feels real. It feels like maybe there’s a future here for us. Maybe all this luxury and luck won’t end. Maybe Emma will have a stable home, and my grandparents will get to ke ep their house, and I’ll become an in-demand event manager, and I’ll live happily ever after. “What are you smiling about?” Emma says from the other side of the cavernous room. She pads toward me on bare feet, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy heap. “I was just daydreaming,” I answer. “Scheming, you mean.” She slides onto a barstool on the other side of the kitchen island. “Wondering how you can stay here forever.” I laugh. “Maybe.” I put the roasting pan away and turn back to my sister. “How’d your midterm go, by the way?” Emma shrugs. “It’ll be a week before my professor posts the grades, but I think I did okay.” Her eyes glimmer. “Maybe better than okay.” Opening the refrigerator, I grab two of the extra chocolate mousses sitting on the middle shelf and slide one across the counter toward my sister. “Let’s celebrate with extra dessert, then.” “The only way to celebrate.” She grabs the spoon I pass her and digs in. I lean against the counter while I eat my sister’s delicious creation, looking around at the fancy fixtures in this beautiful apartment, and I realize that even though we’re surrounded by beautiful things, the reality of our life isn’t that different.
I have a great family who loves me, a smart-as-hell sister, and a fridge and pantry permanently stocked with the results of my sister’s stress baking. I’m lucky, in other words. I have a lot to be grateful for. It’s too bad I’m a few short weeks from finding out it’s all about to change.