Page 52 of Sweet Little Thing

This wasn’t an ideal situation but just for tonight or perhaps two nights, I would stay. Get some rest and wake up with a clear head. I could keep out of their way and not give Presley any cause to be more annoyed with me. It was uncharacteristically kind of Stone to have offered for me to stay here and to get all mythings. I didn’t want to appear ungrateful, but I also wasn’t sure how long his mood swings lasted. Could he morph back into the jerk I had grown accustomed to at any moment?

We reached the top floor and Stone used a key that looked antique to unlock the large heavy elaborate door. I knew the building was historical. However, I hadn’t expected Stone’s apartment would look like something from the Great Gatsby era. It was as if I’d walked into the book itself. I guess I had imagined something more modern inside.

“This is,” I said, turning in circles and taking in the entrance of his apartment. “Amazing.” Even the furnishings fit the architectural style.

“You like it?” There was a twinge of pride in his tone.

“Who wouldn’t?” I asked, still looking at all the details.

“You won’t be so thrilled about everything when you realize the bathrooms have those old claw-foot tubs instead of a nice whirpool,” Presley said with a sigh as if this was a real burden for her.

Stone didn’t respond. I wondered if she paid him rent. If living in this gorgeous apartment was free for her, then she shouldn’t complain about anything. I’d had a claw footed tub in the basement at Jasper’s house…I shoved that thought away. No. I would not think about him or that place. At least not tonight.

“You did all this?” I asked shoving thoughts of Jasper back and focusing on the right now. Stone getting his hands dirty was a definite distraction.

“I like restoring old things. It’s a hobby. I started two years ago and finished it up this past fall. Most of the big items were completed by contractors. I couldn’t always be here to oversee it since I was in college. However, any chance I had to get here, I took.”

Presley sighed dramatically. Something I was noting that she did often. “I love Manhattan. I hate your mother, but I love the city.”

Again, Stone ignored her.

“Your room will be the third door on the left,” Stone said. “There is a bathroom connected to it, and if you can suffer through the antiquated features, it’s yours to use,” he said the last bit with obvious disdain. Presley’s earlier comment was not well received.

“Thank you, Stone. I appreciate this. Really, I do. And I’ll spend tomorrow finding a place to live. I won’t be a hindrance.”

He frowned. “You’ve got a lot to figure out. The room isn’t being used. It’s yours. Use it. Don’t worry about a place to live right now. Deal with the other shit first.”

I didn’t look at Presley to see her response. She wouldn’t be as agreeable as him. She had made it clear she wasn’t crazy about my being here.

“Clover is coming to visit soon. She’ll need somewhere to sleep,” Presley said quickly. “That’s my sister,” she added as she glared my way.

“Clover can sleep in your king-size bed with you,” Stone told her. The authority in his voice was subtle but unmistakable. “That room is Beulah’s as long as she needs it.”

Presley inhaled sharply. “Are you fucking her? Is that it? Jasper tossed her out because he caught you with her, didn’t he? I can’t believe you’d do this to me! You’ve never thrown one in my face. All your sluts, even Margot—”

“That’s enough, Presley!”

I jumped, startled by his loud command. Presley immediately broke into tears. “You always hurt me. Always. Your mother doesn’t think I’m good enough. That’s it, isn’t it!” she wailed.

“Not the fucking drama. Jesus, save it for your friends. I’m not in the mood for it.” Stone’s voice was still louder than usual.Like a parent talking to a spoiled child. “Go wail to Fiona. Drink vodka or some shit. Just don’t do it here.”

Presley pointed at me. “And leave you alone with her? To fuck in our apartment? Your mother would hate her, too! She wants you to marry Margot!” The shrill of her voice made me wince, as did her accusations.

“I am not fucking Beulah. However, this is my home. If I want to fuck someone here, I will. My mother has never and will never have a say in who I do or don’t fuck. I don’t owe you anything, Presley. You owe me a lot. Remember that and go cool off. But not inmyapartment.” Stone turned to me. “I need a drink. Presley successfully drives me to drink often. Can I get you anything, or would you rather go hide out in the sanctuary of your room?”

“That! You say things like that, and it’s mean. Cruel, Stone! Cruel! You act like I mean nothing to you. Just like your father—”

“For the love of God, would you take that yammering and find a friend to punish with it!” He was loud again. Almost shouting.

Presley spun around on her heel and ran out the door in tears. After it swung close with a heavy thud behind her, he sighed and shook his head as he walked to the bar and took a glass down from the rack beside it.

“Want a drink?” he asked again.

“No, thank you. I think I’ll just go to the room.”

I stood there watching him, trying to figure out why he was in a relationship with a woman he didn’t seem to like very much. He also wasn’t faithful to her, but she was aware of that. It wasn’t my business. He’d been nothing but generous to me today. Yet…

“Is she okay? Your girlfriend?” I blurted out the question unable to help myself.

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