“You can.” Before she could argue, I went on. “I’m beginning to understand you were there the other night when Lilly needed help and you waded in. For that, whatever you need from me to give your kids the best opportunity I give to you as a thank you. The apartments come furnished for the residents being displaced here, but if you don’t need it, we can move it out. Rent will be the same, I’ll ensure it.”
She glanced at Lilly. “It’s kind of you to think of me.”
Lilly blushed, as if she wasn’t used to compliments and that familiar rage I felt at the reminder she probably wasn’t, hit me. She fidgeted with the sleeve of her shirt and looked to her feet. “It was kind of you… what you did for me. I owe you.”
“You owe me nothing. Anyone would do the same.”
“No.” Lilly’s head snapped up. With conviction in her tone, she stated, “Anyone wouldn’t.”
She spoke so fiercely, so knowingly, that tightness in my chest threatened to erupt. Apparently, Samaya felt the same because her chin wobbled and she gave an understanding nod. “I’ll need time to think.”
I pulled out my wallet and handed over a business card. “My cell is on here, and with the information you received earlier so is Valor’s contact information, but if you need anything or have questions, or need help getting out of another lease you may have already signed, please call.”
“Thank you.” From inside her apartment, an unhappy scream blared followed by a little girl shrieking, “I will hit you!”
Samaya smiled. “Girls. Those who say boys are hell-raisers have never met twin girls. I will let you know,” she said to Lilly and to me, her kindness turned hard. “I’ll let you know either way.”
“Enjoy your day.”
“Thank you,” Lilly said, with all the emotion of someone grateful.
Samaya disappeared behind the door and Lilly turned pleading eyes to me. “Do you think she’ll take it?”
“She seems like a woman determined to make life good for her kids on her own, so to be honest, it could go either way.”
“Of course.” Disappointment pulled down her expression. “We should go. I’ll still need sleep before my shift at Judith’s.”
Seat buckled and ready to pull out, Lilly clung to the door handle like she was ready to jump out at the first possible moment.
“You okay?” My hand hovered over the gearshift. “You’re tense.”
“I’m fine.” She twisted in my direction and settled in her seat to look calmer. The white-knuckled grip on the door belied her other actions or her words. “I don’t get in cars much anymore. Does that sound stupid?”
“No.” My teeth ground together. Of course she didn’t. “I’ll be safe and it’s only a few miles.”
“It’s only a couple of blocks from Valor Holdings, right?”
“Yes.”
I gave her a minute and when she relaxed marginally in the seat, I slowly pulled out onto the street.
Her hand tightened on the door handle.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yup.” It was a lie, but there wasn’t much else I could do, so I made sure I drove slower and more cautious than normal.
After a few blocks, she said, “If I take a job there, I’ll live close to work.”
“Farther from school, though.” I internally smacked myself on the head. I wanted her in my building. It was the whole reason I threw that listing in there, although I wasn’t expecting her to want friends near her… nor was I aware she had any.
“Less time on the bus than I spend now heading to Judith’s.”
At least it wasn’t an obstacle. We headed downtown and I drove around 801 Grand, the tallest building in Des Moines and scooted over to Court Avenue where bars and restaurants and newer apartments lined the streets.
“Have you been to the farmer’s market down here yet?”
“No.”
“You should go. Even if you don’t do shopping, it’s a fun place to hang out. There’s live music and a lot of the sellers offer samplings of their food.”
“Because I don’t have money to buy my own?”
I took my eyes off the road as we pulled to a stoplight and caught the glint of her eye. “You’re teasing me.”
“I must not do it enough if you have to ask.”
She turned back toward her window and her grin slipped.
Damn it. For once she was having fun and being silly and I ruined it.
“In the summer there’s a massive arts festival that covers the bridges and an outdoor amphitheater that has live music. Past Valor, there’s an outdoor skating rink we were a part of building just over a decade ago.”
“You don’t have to sell me on the city, I already live here.”
There was that tone again, and this time, I smiled. “I love my city.”
“I can tell. When you talked about what you’re building, you got excited. Happy to be able to tell someone about it.”
“I love my city and my job. There’s nothing better outside my family.”
“Is it just you and your dad?”
“Yes. Along with other kids over the years who have become family.” Another lie. I gritted my teeth. I drove the two blocks taking us to the edge of the East Village, a trendier area with just as much to do, if not more than downtown, and whipped my car toward the underground parking garage.
“Full disclosure,” I said, swiping my parking pass tucked in my visor toward the sensor that lifted the gates. “I live here.”
“You live here?”
“Does that surprise you?”
She shook her head. Her color had returned during the drive and now there was a faint pink hue to her cheeks.
“Kind of. I pictured a large house with a white picket fence you were waiting to fill with a wife and lots of babies somewhere in the suburbs where everyone felt safe all the time.”
I pulled into my assigned spot, hoping she didn’t notice the P on the sign or that it was only one of two spots that had a letter instead of a number.
“So you’ve thought about me?”
She reached for her seat belt and looked at me through her lashes, head ducked, pink color on her cheeks darkening. “Since your dad and you have injected yourselves into every aspect of my life, it’s been difficult to think of anything else.”
She made it sound horrific, like she hated it. The blush and her hint of a grin that twitched, like she was still trying to figure out how to smile correctly, told me otherwise.
I opened my door and as I slid out, said, “That sounds utterly obnoxious.”
“Indeed.”
With that, I threw my head back and laughed.
When I was done, she met me at the back of my car, the elevators right across the way. “Come on. I want to see my soon-to-be new home.”
“You’re choosing to move in here before you’ve seen it?”
“You once accused me of being a fool. Or an idiot, which made our first meeting incredibly memorable by the way. You’re also right. I’m tired of living among roaches as my only friends and looking over my shoulder. I doubt you would have let me move into a building that wasn’t safe, so, I’m choosing to trust your decision.”