Rebel North by J.B. Salsbury
Thirty-One
Kingston
The creative room at BI Designs has become my favorite place in the world. The walls are covered with inspirational images—brightly colored graffiti from around the city, industrial bridges next to naturescapes ripped from magazines. There’s even a wall dedicated to perspective that has a twenty-four-foot ladder and an inversion table so I can hang upside down to create. Sounds wild, I know, but my brain works in the strangest ways. It always has. I’m just finally learning how to work with it rather than against it.
My team of four—Angelica, Todd, and my artist friend Nico, who I’ve hired on a consultation basis because he’s fucking brilliant—all stare at the table of chaos where we’ve laid out a selection of colors, fabrics, and textures for a new luxury cigar lounge we’re bidding. We walk around the table, move shit around, stand back, and move shit around again until we all give a collective sigh of relief when the right combination is found.
“Something’s missing,” Nico moves a paint sample closer to the brushed brass fixture.
“Agreed.” Angelica squints through her hot-pink cat-eye glasses. “Needs more texture.
“Velvet?” Todd pushes a sample of the fabric into the mix.
“No, that’s not it.” Angelica walks slowly around the table to take in the combination at all angles of light.
“Denim.” I reach for the sample and toss it into the mix. “For the chairs.”
“Shit,” Todd whispers. “That’s it.”
“Yes!” Angelica and Nico high-five.
“It works, right?” I never imagined I’d find a job that didn’t involve hours of reading and writing, one where I could use my creativity and not be ashamed of my disability. Playing with colors and patterns all day doesn’t even feel like work.
Angelica punches in the information on her iPad. “I’ll check prices with the distributors.”
“Todd, can you go down to the textile warehouse and grab a sample of every denim they have? The color has to be perfect.”
“Shit, what time is it?” Todd jumps when he checks his watch. “I’m showing 2B at ten.”
“Oh, yeah?”
I put Todd in charge of renting out the extra apartment above the warehouse. I occupy 2A, the bigger of the two places. 2B has been a harder sell because it doesn’t get a lot of sun through the north-facing windows, and the view includes a parking lot and an ugly five-story building built in the eighties.
“It shouldn’t take too long. The lady said from everything she saw that the place was perfect. I can run to the warehouse after the showing.”
“Go get the samples. I’ll show the apartment.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I got it.”
“Cool. Text me if there are any other samples you need,” he says and rushes out the door.
Nico and Angelica work on the proposal, and I head to the front office to wait for the prospective tenant. I’m antsy to get back to work and pray the person shows up on time. I also pray the person isn’t a slob and has normal hours. I’m not excited about having to share close quarters with a stranger, but the added income will help with the upkeep of the place.
Sitting in Todd’s front office chair, I flip through the Manga book he left on his desk and check my voicemails. Alex and Jordan calling in separately to check on me, then calling in together—
The door opens, and I lift my gaze to greet the guest, only to drop my phone when I see Gabriella standing in the doorway. Backlit by the sun, she looks like an angel in a hoodie and leggings.
I jump to my feet. “Gabriella?” In my hurry to get around the desk, I kick the corner and stumble forward, catching myself midair before falling on my face.
“Kingston? Are you okay?” She rushes forward with her hands out in case she might have to catch me.
“I’m fine.” I reassure her by pointing at the problematic piece of furniture. “It was the desk. It sticks out. Anyway, what are you… how did you find me?” All the reasons why she is standing here in front of me filter through my head. She misses me. She wants to give me another chance. She loves me. My chest fills with hope, but I hesitate to get too excited just yet.
“Wait, what are you doing here?” she asks, her gaze skeptical.
“What? I own this place. This is my company. My building.”
Her eyes grow wide when the missing link falls into place.
“You’re the renter?” Could it be possible that the universe would find me worthy enough to put the person I love more than anything back in my path again?
Her eyes dart around the office, and when they land on the company sign, her expression falls, and her jaw goes slack.
“Oh, yeah, that…” I run my hand over the back of my neck, feeling the heat rise from my chest.
“Did you,” she whispers, “name your company after me?”
I turn to look at the logo and try to see it through her eyes. The contemporary swirls and scripted font. Is she freaked out? “I did. You’re my inspiration, Bee.” I turn back to her. “You always have been.”
She clears her throat and stares down at her feet, then turns to look at the door behind her as if making a mental escape. “I think… I should go—”
“No, please don’t. We’re friends, right?” The f-word sours in my mouth, but I force myself to smile. “I have an apartment for rent, and you’re looking for an apartment to rent.”
“I am, but…” She chews on the inside of her mouth.
“It’s so hard to find anything in this area, and if you like it, it’s yours.” I scramble to sell her on the idea. To get her to stay, even if only long enough to tour the place. “The square footage is impressive.” I snag the keys from Todd’s desk. “You won’t find anything like it for the price. You have to see it for yourself.”
She takes a minute to think that over and finally nods. “I came all this way. I might as well.”
I open the front door for her and hold my breath as she walks past me, fearing that one whiff of her shampoo might cause me to beg for her to give me another chance. She deserves better, asshole.
“The entrance to the apartments is this door over here. There’s the intercom so you can buzz up any visitors.” I unlock the door that leads to a staircase. “The building is old, so there’s no elevator.”
At the top of the stairs is a small sitting room with a window, a loveseat, and a coffee table. Branching off that room are three doors.
“This is 2B.” I slip the key into the lock and push open the door for her to walk inside.
The apartment is modest—one bedroom, one bathroom, a living room, and an eat-in kitchen. My apartment is bigger and has better light, and I want to offer it to her, but I hesitate to let her know I live here for fear that she won’t even consider the place.
I keep to the entryway while she walks around the apartment, ducking into the rooms and pushing the blinds aside to look out the window.
“Paint, carpet, and all appliances are brand new. Behind those doors is a small laundry room.”
She turns to me, seeming surprised by my statement. “Look at you, talking like a real blue-collar man.”
I chuckle and feel warm all over from her teasing.
“It’s perfect, but…” She takes another look around and sighs. “Won’t it be weird, you being my landlord?”
“No! No at all. Not… no, never.” I bite my bottom lip to keep from my embarrassing babble.
“Will it be hard? With you working downstairs, we’ll be running into each other from time to time.”
I resist the urge to make a dirty joke. See? Who says a man can’t mature? “The last five months without you have been hard. I suspect the rest of my life will be no different.”
She frowns.
Shit, I’m losing her again. “You can’t beat the price,” I say, hoping to sell her. “You won’t find anything for one thousand a month in the state of New York.”
“One thousand?” She tilts her head and smirks. “The ad said four thousand two hundred?”
“Huh… that’s weird.” I shrug. “Typo.”
“Kingston.” Her smile widens. “You can’t give me a deal just because of our history.”
“Deal? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I smile back at her, and the mutual happiness between us pulls at my chest and draws me closer. I dig my heels in and slam my back against the wall to stay put. “So? When do you want to move in?”
“Aren’t you optimistic?” She props her hands on her hips.
“What happened at home?”
Her brows pinch together. “Nothing, it’s just time for me to move on. I got an actual paying job now, and I want to be more independent. It’s time.”
“Well, I hope you live here. It’ll be nice to bump into you from time to time.”
“I’ll think about it,” she says and takes one last look around the space. “I’ll let you know what I decide.”
Gabriella
“What do you mean it’s no longer available?” I motion to the loaded moving truck I rented that’s parked illegally outside of the building. “What am I supposed to do with my things?”
I’m going to have a panic attack. Right here on the sidewalk outside of what was supposed to be my new apartment. My new beginning!
“Don’t worry. We have another apartment open for you.” The guy says and holds out a set of keys. “You’ll be happier with this one.”
“But I haven’t even seen it. Is the rent the same? What if it’s not—”
“Come check it out.”
I follow the bald guy with all the tattoos up the stairs to a door that says 2A on the front. I look to the 2B door and wonder who stole my apartment from me. I should ask for Kingston and demand he explain, but I’m frazzled enough as it is. The last thing I need is his overwhelming presence, which always manages to knock me off-center.
I push inside the apartment and freeze mid-step at the view. The living area is lit up with sunlight, with the arched windows overlooking the street below and a nearby park. The walls are white, the floor is wood, and the kitchen is updated like the last but twice the size. And this is a two-bedroom?
“I can’t afford this.” I hand the man, Todd, the keys back. “It’s twice the size.”
“Price is the same.”
“How is that possi…” Of course. Kingston. Did he evict whoever lived here in order to give the apartment to me? Or bribe them to trade? Because if the person who once lived here now lives in the much smaller apartment next door? Well, that’s going to make for some awkward neighbor interactions. Hey, I’m the woman you were kicked out of your home for. Want to come over for a coffee sometime?
“So?” Todd says and checks his watch as if he has somewhere he needs to be. “What do you say? Will you take it?”
On principle alone, I should say no. But I’m currently homeless with everything I own in the back of a U-Haul. “Is Kingston around?”
“No, he has two walk-through’s this afternoon. He won’t be back until late.”
I sigh and decide I have no choice but to move into this fantastic flat. “Fine.” I hold out my hand to take the keys back. “I’ll take it.”
He slaps the keys back in my palm. “Smart choice.”
He turns and heads out. As he jogs back down the stairs, I hear him whistle like the kind always heard at baseball games. He barks out a command, and I jog down the stairs just as I see four guys who are built like semi-trucks going for my U-Haul.
“What is this?”
“Complimentary move-in help.”
I wasn’t in a position to turn down help.
The four men had the U-Haul unloaded in less than an hour. It took the rest of the day for me to unpack and return the rental truck. A storm was rolling in that promised the first snow of the season, and I wanted to get home before it hit. I had the Uber swing by the grocery store to grab some essentials to get me through the weekend.
Showered and in my pajamas, I heat up a frozen macaroni and cheese to celebrate my first official night in my new place. I curl up in the couch my parents let me take from my dad’s study. It smells like his cologne. I turn on the television but keep the volume low so I can enjoy the sound of the rain as it pelts the glass.
A knock on the door startles me.
I haven’t buzzed anyone up, so I assume it’s my neighbor in 2B, but I’m afraid to answer in case they’re angry I stole their—”
“Gabriella, it’s me. Kingston.”
I blow out a breath of relief while my heart simultaneously picks up a furious pace. What is he doing here? And why couldn’t he have stopped by when I’m wearing something other than the flannel pajamas my parents bought me three Christmases ago?
“Coming!” I shake out my hair, hoping to give it a tousled, casual look, and throw back my shoulders before unlocking the door.
I should’ve worried less about my appearance and prepared more for his.
His hands are in the pockets of his royal blue slacks, and his suit jacket is opened to expose his impressive torso, which is wrapped in a fine silk shirt the color of eggplant. His head tilts, and he takes in what I’m wearing, just as I did him. He grins.
His gaze has the ability to rip through my clothes, and I fight the urge to cross my arms over my chest. “Hey, what are you doing here?” I immediately regret the question when his smile falls.
“With the winter storm coming in, I wanted to make sure you knew how to work the heater.” He nods over my shoulder to the wall heater across the room. “It’s a little temperamental.” His eyes settle on the single couch in the room that’s facing the television, which is playing without sound. They narrow on the half-eaten noodles in a plastic tray.
“I messed with it earlier, and it’s working fine.” I have the urge to close the door, to block his view of what I’m sure looks like a pathetic and lonely life. I won’t say it’s pathetic. To me, it’s more like freedom. But I can’t deny I’ve been lonely. I’ve met friends at the ballet studio and hung out with co-workers at the children’s hospital, but there has been a piece missing since Kingston and I broke up. A piece I fear I may never be able to replace.
He nods solemnly. “Good, that’s good. If you, uh…” He does that thing where he rubs the back of his neck. A nervous tick that only makes him look hotter. “If you need anything, like anything at all, I’ll be, ya know,” he says and jerks his head toward 2B.
“Wait… what? Kingston. You lived here?”
He holds up his palms. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal? I kicked you out of your place!”
“No, I voluntarily moved. The smaller apartment is better for me. I’m never home anyway.”
“The cheap rent, the bigger apartment, the complimentary movers…” I shake my head. “That was all you.”
He doesn’t deny it.
“You don’t have to do all this for me.” I clench my fists. “You don’t owe me anything, okay? I told you I don’t blame you—”
He takes a step forward, his brows pinched into a vicious slant. “You think I did all this because of some obligation I feel?”
“Isn’t it?”
He runs a hand through his hair and stares at the ceiling for a minute as if searching for the last sliver of patience that he stashed in the rafters. “Fuck, I don’t know how to be any clearer, Bee.” When he lowers his eyes, he braces his arms on the doorframe and leans in. “When are you going to get it through your head? I’m fucking in love with you. I have been for a long time, and whether we’re together or not speaking to one another, I will still and always be in love with you. I know I’m not the kind of man you deserve, but that means jack shit to what I feel for you. Get this through your beautiful and brilliant head. I am in love with you. And as long as there is air in my lungs, I will jump at any and every opportunity to take care of you. Now, I understand you may not be comfortable with all this, so if you want to leave and find somewhere else to live, I won’t stop you.” He studies my face, then pushes back and away from the door. “Have a good night, Bee. If you need anything at all…” He nods toward his door and then turns away and disappears inside.
I don’t know how long I stand there in my open doorway processing his confession, but when I get back to my dinner, it’s cold.