The Big Boss

“I’ll text you later,” he says, stepping back into the spray.

I watch him for a moment, and he looks at me as his hand starts to move, and I blow him a kiss before leaving. I need to leave before I drop the damn towel and call in sick. I quickly dress. I’m going to need to move fast to get back to my car and apartment and change, but I do make it.

I’m right on time pulling up to our offices. Sometimes I do the actual grocery shopping, but for the most part—especially for clients like Harold who are early in the morning—the shopping is taken care of by someone else and I just pick up the groceries before heading over.

But when I walk inside, it’s not the normal happy atmosphere that I’m used to experiencing in the morning. Everyone looks a little somber.

“What’s going on?”

Morgan, my supervisor, looks at me. “We got word that 120 Asher is going to be demolished in two weeks.”

That’s Harold’s building. “What?”

“Yeah, we had no idea. The permits came through yesterday I guess, and some developer is going ahead with a project that will get rid of the building and the park behind it. I guess the residents are going to be compensated.”

“Holy shit.” Dread pools in my stomach. The building where Harold lives is pretty old, and it houses more than a few clients. Compensation for being displaced is great, but a lot of these people have owned their apartments for many years. The check they’re likely to get probably won’t cover the absurd cost of a new place to live or a nursing home.

The park behind the house provides much needed exercise and fresh air for a lot of people living in that building. Yeah, the building is a little run down, but it’s not something that needs to be demolished.

“Yeah,” Morgan says. “We’re going to see what we can do but it came out of nowhere. You were already planning to help us with the downtown demonstration, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

That one was the one that I had mentioned to Rose. Gathering signatures from people to make sure some downtown green space was preserved and not sold off to make more high-rise buildings.

“Well that’s been pushed aside for this,” she says. “This is way more urgent.”

I nod. “I’ll do whatever you need me to.”

“For now, just see your clients. I’ve got to try to get hold of people on the city council. And after that we’ll see what we can do about organizing. And if the worst of it does happen, we’re going to need people to help find new placements.”

Fuck. This really is bad. If developers are going after older buildings, it’s only a matter of time before all of our clients are hit. I can see someone easily trying to justify demolishing Rose’s building. I can think of a bunch of them that could be targeted for this.

I grab the first of Harold’s groceries and start to move them out to my car. This is ridiculous. What kind of asshole would want to displace a bunch of people? Especially seniors with nowhere else to go?

My stomach curls in fear. “Morgan, which company is doing the demolishing?” Please don’t be him. Please be literally anybody but him. If there’s any good in this universe, it will give me this small favor.

“Silverman & Blake,” she says.

The bag slips from my hands and crashes to the floor, spilling cans of soup that go rolling. “Shit,” I say, scrambling to pick them up before they go everywhere.

Morgan is by my side in a second. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I say. “It just slipped.”

But that’s a lie. I’m very much not okay. Not after hearing that. Not after knowing that I slept with someone who could be this callous. Not just slept with him, but let him in. Thought about the possibility of continuing on a path with him.

My heart and body both still want that, and the news that he could do this makes me ache. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe he doesn’t know who lives there.

Or maybe he does, and he’s exactly who I thought he was all along.

What do I do now?

10

Keenan

Today has been a fucking amazing day. From waking up with Justine to that moment in the shower and how hard I came after, to the seeming wave of sunshine that I’ve been riding ever since. Everything seems a little bit brighter and easier.

I sent Justine a text just before noon asking her if she once again wanted to have dinner. No response yet, but I have high hopes. Especially after that smile that she gave me this morning.

Justine isn’t like anyone that I’ve ever met, and deep down I know that it’s more than just a simple attraction. There’s something between us, and now that we’ve connected, I’m determined to see it through one way or another.