Chapter 31

DORIS

The next morning early, I went to the New York City government land building department. I talked to one clerk after another and finally asked to talk to the manager.

The manager was a bored man with thin brown hair on the sides of his head. He had a few oily strands pulled over the top of his head in a bad comb-over that almost covered his bald spot.

I explained the situation again, and I gave him a piece of paper on which I had written the number for the tract of land.

The manager talked in circles, explaining without saying anything, why the NYC government had to seize this particular piece of land and why his hands were tied.

He put his hands out to his sides in a helpless gesture. "What can I do? I’m only a manager. There’s nothing you can do. I’m so sorry for your client's financial loss, and I understand you’re going to lose the commission. I understand if you’re angry."

I squinted my eyes at him. His whole speech sounded rehearsed and insincere.

"But believe me when I say there's no way to change this," the manager continued. "The powers that be are adamant about this. There is no way it will be reversed. You should just forget about it and move on."

I talked to him and talked to him to try to convince him, but he put his hands up in a surrender motion again.

"I am sorry," he said.

However, he didn’t seem very sorry. He seemed guilty.

"There’s nothing I can do to help you,"

He said.

It rang through my mind over and over as I stomped down the hall to the elevator. 'There’s nothing I can do. There’s nothing I can do.'

Finally, I left more frustrated than I had ever been in my life. I walked around the city, trying to calm down.

I had lunch with Nina at the diner and filled her in on what happened.

"Do you know what this reminds me of," she said to me, when I told her exactly what the manager said earlier in the morning. "Doris, this reminds me of that HR lady at Cushman and Wakefield."

"Huh?" I asked.

"That’s the exact phrase she used, wasn't it? 'What can I do? I’m only the manager. There’s nothing I can do.'"

I thought about it. "Yeah, I think that was the exact thing she said."

"Do you think there’s any possibility Andrea is behind this? I mean the Brooklyn thing," Nina asked.

"No," I said. "She couldn’t possibly be."

Nina looked skeptical. She raised one eyebrow at me, as if begging me to consider it.

"Do you really think so?" I asked. "I mean, this is the New York City government."

"I wouldn’t put anything past Andrea," Nina said. "I mean, think about it, every piece. The good luck you have had has been because of Arthur, and every piece of bad luck you have had has been because of Andrea."

I thought about everything that had happened since I caught Bob and Andrea in bed.

Nina was right. Everything that I thought was just a coincidence had been carefully engineered.

Andrea was trying to ruin my life.

"That bitch," I said quietly under my breath.

"Let’s not jump to conclusions," Nina said. "It’s just a theory. You’ll have to go back to the government office and find out."

After lunch, I had three appointments.

I had to show two medium sized apartments in midtown, and then one huge luxury condo with 15 bedrooms, huge living room and dining room, a kitchen with floor to ceiling windows all on one of the best streets in the 80s on the upper East side.

All three couples were in love with their prospective apartments. I had brought prepared contracts for each one. And all prospective clients said they would take the contracts home show them to their lawyers, and have them signed by the end of the week.

That mitigated my upset and anger from the way the morning seemed like such a failure at the government office, and the anger I felt that Andrea might have meddled. The thought that I'd have two middle-sized sales and one big sale was very nice.

The knowledge that I'd make these three couples counter-balanced the ickiness of the early part of the day somewhat.

I got a chance to visit with Mia for a few minutes. She was eating dinner with Nathan. Arthur was still at work.

Then I went to the hospital to visit Noah.

Dr. John managed to corner me before I got to Noah’s room.

He asked me for a date again.

Dr. John said again that he was the perfect man for me, and there was no way I should be turning him down.

Again, I tried to assuage his ego. But I didn’t think he was getting a message.

I told him I had to hurry on to Noah’s room because I was in a rush, and he let me go. As I entered my adoptive father’s room, I worried that Dr John would be a problem.

But when I saw the kind-looking nurse, a small Hawaiian man I had never met before was checking Noah’s chart, all thoughts of Dr. John disappeared.

"Hi," the nurse said in a kind voice. "You must be Doris."

"I am," I said with a smile.

"The patient opened his eyes for three seconds, and he moved his left arm an inch. Up until now, every movement had been considered involuntary twitching."

My eyes widened. "Oh."

"I’m going to get the doctor so she can give you an updated report. It’s really not my place to say more."

"Thank you so much," I said.

ARTHUR

Tuesday night, I returned to my penthouse late. I poured a large scotch for myself.

I checked in on Mia, who was fast asleep.

I thought again about that tract of land in Brooklyn that the government wanted to make into a cemetery, and I got angry all over again.

It’s not normal for the New York City government to seize property from private individuals. The New York City government is usually pretty friendly.

I’d made enemies over the years. The financial industry could be cutthroat. Yet I couldn’t think of anybody who would try to make this happen just to hurt me.

Except maybe for one person.

My mother and I were going to have to have a talk.

Instead of pouring myself another drink, I went to the large room in the back of my penthouse that I’d converted into a state-of-the-art gym.

I ran on the treadmill until I could barely take it anymore. Then I lifted weights until I was dripping with sweat, and my muscles were sore and shaking. It helped some.

Usually, nothing bothered me. After the teenage experiences I had, I think of myself as pretty hardened.

Very few things threw me off. But this government seizure was not making me happy.

I assumed that Doris had gone to the government office and hit a red brick wall just like Nathan had, and that pissed me off. Not only because we have a client who was bound to be extremely unhappy if we couldn't undo this, but more so because Doris was going to be unhappy, and I hated to see that.

It bothered me more than it should.

I decided to take a hot shower and get into bed, sliding into my thousand-count, expensive Italian sheets.

I checked my phone. It was a little late, but not too late. I pulled up Doris’s contact and started a text.

'Lovely Dove,'

I was about to type, 'Hope you had a good day,' but then I stopped myself. If she went to the government building office, she probably had a shitty day, not a good one.

I remembered Sunday night when we spent that wonderfully white hot evening in the front seat of my vintage Porsche.

As I was lost in the feelings, I remembered her saying that she dreamed of me almost as often as I had dreamed of her, and I instantly got hard.

'Dear Little Dove,' I type again.

'I hope you thought of me today as often as I thought of you.'

'I’m here lying in bed, and I wish you were here with me. If you were, I would do everything I did to you Sunday night but more. And when you wanted to scream my name, I would slap my palm over your mouth to muffle scream, yet encourage you to scream louder.'

I pause before I send a text. Is this too much?

As much as Doris has bloomed, part of her still seems shy at heart. Yet I want to push her. After a moment of deliberation, I pressed send.

I drew in a long breath, waiting to see if she would answer. She might not even have her phone nearby, perhaps it was on the charger. It was evening; maybe Doris was in the shower. The image of her wet, lathering up her hair, neck, and perfect breasts made me even harder.

It had been a hard day at work for me; just as I was ready to drift off to sleep, my phone dings.

I grabbed the phone and looked at the screen. Her message response was short.

‘And I would let you.’