Page 99 of The Re-Proposal

He’s soon replaced by another delivery man.

I sign clipboard after clipboard.

The noisy thump of boots and workmen chatting back and forth rises like a cloud. Soon, our building is overtaken by men on a mission.

I watch it all with a sense of shock. Cody got this done overnight.

I’m not sure if I should feel flattered or overwhelmed.

Drumming my fingers against a table, I contemplate his motivations. In my kitchen last night, he looked like a hunter on the prowl. Even when he held me, his body had been wound tight. I thought I’d wake up to the headline ‘Billionaire Arrested For Assault On Trailer Park Abuser’.

Instead, he’s unloading thousands of dollars on our co-op.

Something isn’t adding up.

“Isn’t this so exciting?” Laura sings, joining me to watch the workmen install our new furniture. The place looks fancier already.

“It’s… something.”

“Well, aren’t you just a ball of sunshine,” she teases.

I give her my back. “I’ll try calling Cody again.”

His phone goes to voicemail.

“Please leave your message after the beep.”

“Cody,” I hiss, “answer your phone. You can’t just drop all this expensive furniture on us without an explanation. What are you doing? What do you really want? At least answer my freaking calls.”

The line beeps.

The recording cuts off.

I grunt and rub my temples in frustration.

Ms. Phoebe wanders over. Her gentle hand lands on my back. “Are you okay?”

“No.” I grind out. “Cody’s being obnoxious and it enrages me.”

“The fact that he’s looking out for the co-op enrages you?”

“He does everything on his own time with no thought to how it inconveniences us.”

Ms. Phoebe folds her arms over her chest. “Have you thought that he’s doing it this way because he knows you’ll reject it if he offers to help outright?”

I slant her a dark look. “I amnotthe problem here.”

“Of course not.”

“I have dedicated mylifeto helping others. I sacrificed. I served. I dragged myself out of bed even when I didn’t feel like it. He does not get to swoop in, show off his money and just…”

“And just steal your limelight?”

My eyebrows hike. I stare at her. “That’s not what this is.”

“Clarissa,” Ms. Phoebe smiles tenderly, “why do you think that money is so evil?”

“I don’t.”

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