“My brothers surprised me,” he said. “I was caught off guard. And now I’m behind on your grand gesture.”
“You should come upstairs first,” Annie said, tugging his arm. “Liam is trying to make cheese sauce to tide everyone over, and I think he’s going to burn the place down.”
Beck looked frazzled.
“Do you want the keys or not?” Belle asked. “I have another meeting.”
“It’s supposed to be part of my surprise,” he hissed.
Belle raised an eyebrow. “Oh? I thought it was part of the deal.”
“What deal?” I asked in confusion.
“Tess,” Beck said, grabbing my hand. “Like I said, I’m sorry about taking your painting. I never should have done it. I’m sorry for not believing you about the article and am very sorry for firing you. I know you hate me. You made that pretty clear. I’m not asking you to get back together with me. But I did just spend twenty million dollars—”
“Not refundable,” Belle added.
“Not refundable, on a very nice condo in this building for you.”
“For me?” I gasped. “A condo?”
Beck nodded.
This is it!I thought gleefully.I get the big moment and the happily ever after.
But when did that ever really happen to me? I had trusted Beck once and been screwed over. Should I do it again?
“What’s the catch?”
“The catch?” Maeve screamed. “Even if it’s hot sex every Tuesday wearing a SpongeBob costume, what the hell does it matter? Think of your friends.”
“I have standards,” I said stubbornly.
“No, you don’t!” Maeve said. “You wore a bathrobe and mismatched slippers in the subway.”
“To be fair,” Beck said, “there is a slight, very slight, catch.”
“I knew it!” I crowed.
“Belle,” Vera interrupted as the tall woman headed to the door. “I’m sending out a building-wide email to reschedule the HOA presidential election for tomorrow night. Tess, you better dress up a little bit, or people may still vote for Greg instead of you.”
“I can’t be HOA president!”
“You’re a resident of 101 Park Place tower,” Belle said. “So you absolutely can.”
“Why?” I asked Beck. “What’s in it for you?”
“Your painting,” he said.
Belle brought it from behind the concierge table.
“You got my painting back!” I hugged it.
“I hope you can accept my apology,” Beck said carefully.
“That depends,” I said as Maeve had conniptions next to me. “I need to see the unit first.”
“No, she doesn’t. We will literally live in a windowless storage shed as long as it doesn’t leak,” my friend wailed.
