Page 7 of My Fake Neighbor's Valentine

“Remember to hand your RSVP for this year Valentine’s Dinner by tomorrow. If I don’t have your card, I’m gonna assume you are not coming. It is very important to have them with the correct amount of people coming so we can order to food and the drinks for everyone.” Rachel, our Head of Human Resources, says at the end of our weekly staff meeting, that happens every Monday.

I wait until everyone is out of the conference room before I collect my things, closing my laptop.

“Just because you are the co-founder and co-CEO doesn’t exempt you from handing your RSVP card.” Rachel leans on the conference table and says.

“I know. I’ll bring it tomorrow for sure. I forgot I left it at home.”

She knocks on the table twice and leaves the conference room. The rest of the day goes by with no major hiccups. Like any other Monday, I think I will leave at 5:00 pm, but there isalways a last-minute call or a complicated email that has to be resolved now.

I come back to my place close to 9:00 pm, too tired to do anything besides eat a quick sandwich and take a quick shower before I pass out on my bed.

“Where the heck did I put that damn card?” I yell after turning my living room upside down. My dining table and kitchen counters looking like a tornado passed over them. I think over where was the last time I saw the card. I keep retracing my steps in my head until I remember.

I left it with Grace when I ask her if she wants to come with me.

I take the spare key to her apartment I’ve rarely used and head down to her floor. I think she is still with Soraya, so I just need to quickly find the card and head to work. I unlock her apartment door and search for the RSVP card. I don’t have that much time left. Today I need to arrive on time for a video call meeting with one of our biggest client and a possible new project with them.

I finally see the card on one of her living room side tables when her doorbell rings. I didn’t think about looking at the door camera panel to see who was in front of her door when I open it. An older lady stands in shock. She looks back and forth from her phone to the door.

“Is this Grace Stewart’s apartment?” She asks.

“Yes, but she is not here. I think she is staying with her best friend.”

“Then if this is her apartment, who are you and why are you inside of my daughter’s place?” She yells at me before charging towards me.

Before I could think of a way to explain why I have access to Grace’s apartment without revealing her daughter is sexually active, she is calling Grace and pointing out the card in my hands and Grace’s name written on it.

I focused on finding the card that I didn’t see that Grace added her name as my plus one.

I’m on the phone trying to explain to my business partner, without saying too much, that I might not make it to the video call. I’ve tried to leave twice, explaining that I have an important meeting, and that I was just stopping by to grab the RSVP card Grace forgot to give back. Her mom insisted I couldn’t just leave without explaining why and how I have access to her daughter’s apartment.

I’m about to attempt the same explanation one more time when Grace comes through her door.

“Mom, didn’t I tell you to call me before you come? What if I was out of state on a business trip?”

“I wanted to surprise you, but it was me who got surprised. Who is this young man and why does he have a key to your apartment? He doesn’t look like he works for the building and what is that Valentine’s card he has in his hands that has your name on it? I will like answers.”

“Hello Mrs. Stewart, I’m Seth Holt; Gracie’s boyfriend.” I look at Grace and she remembers we are pretending for her little sister.

“Right Mom, remember the contact number I keep avoiding explaining to you. Well…” Grace points at me, smiling sheepishly.

We look at each other and she nods. At some point, it looks like she and I could read each other’s eyes. I can’t say when exactly it happened. All I know is it did way before we started sleeping with each other. It was like all the time we spend together connected us in a way we never connected with other people in our lives. I don’t think either of us thought too much about it. I would always dismiss it as something not important whenever my friends pointed it out.

I hold her hand, our finger intertwined as if this was only natural. Her body leans closer to me and her mother glares at us.

“Since when do you have a boyfriend?”

“Little bit over a year,” Grace says. I nod and smile.

“Then why you didn’t tell me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I wanted to wait until it feels more secure. This is why I asked you to stop trying to set me up with single men in Clear Springs.”

“Wait, you went on blind dates when you were visiting your family?” I ask.

“I did not. You know I didn’t.” Grace turns around and reassures me.

Of course, I know she never went. One of her text ranted about the sneaky ways her mom tries to set her up with someonein town. Grace would complain about her mom’s plan to have her move back to Clear Springs.

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