The Arrangement

Chapter 9

AnnaLeigh

I throw the phone across the bed. It is seven am and I spent my first night in the penthouse alone in my room. I thought falling asleep so early last night would have let me wake up feeling refreshed but instead I had woken up feeling just as alone. The mirrors in the room weren't helping, either; they just reminded me that I was the only one here. I had even tried calling Micheal. Usually a quick chat with him could cheer me up on any day. His jokes always had a way of reminding me not to take myself too seriously. But even he didnt want to talk this morning.

I sat up, seeing my face reflected in an oval shaped mirror on the wall across from me. I looked as rough as I felt. My hair was messy, my dry skin needed moisturized and my lips needed balm. But I knew cleaning myself up wouldn't really make me feel better, so I decided to do something about my mood first. I jumped out of bed, threw on some old sweatpants and a shirt, tied my hair into a ponytail, laced up my feet into some sneakers and stepped out the door. Luckily I didnt cross paths with anyone as I hurried I into the elevator. I didnt think I could deal with hostility this early in the day. I pressed the lobby button and marveled at how fast the elevator was, speeding down the thirty five floors and dropping me off at the ground floor within ten seconds. I didnt think I'd ever get used to this.

I walked through the lobby, pushing my earbuds into my ears. There were a couple other residents milling about, some seated on the lavish furniture and others talking to each other by the door to the mailroom. They all looked put together and wealthy, as though, even in their casual morning clothes, they were still better than everyone else. I still had my eyes on them when I was almost at the door and I bumped right into the doorman.

"Oof," I let out, and he hurries to steady me.

"Are you all right, Mrs. Cartwright?" He asks, concern plastered across his face. I saw the residents turn to see what the scuffle was and I felt heat rush to my face.

"I'm okay, I'm fine," I say quickly, pushing the door open myself. "I'm sorry," I say, giving him one last glance before jogging outside. Now I really needed the fresh air.

The cool fall breeze hits my bare face immediately and it helped take me out of my own mind. I took a right and waited for the light to change, hoping up and down in place to keep my heart rate up. When it turned green, I sprinted across the street and headed into Central Park. As I made my way through groups of tourists, families, and people who just wanted to see a little nature first thing in the morning, I couldn't help but smile. Everyone was out here together, enjoying life and doing their best, and for some reason I couldnt explain, I was accosted with a feeling of hope. If they could be out here trying, doing their best, then I could do it, too. That feeling of hope was what motivated me to run faster than I had in months, using all the laughing children and grunting soccer players in the grass beside me as mere spectators I was trying to impress. By the time I stopped for a breather, I had run over five miles. Not bad, I thought, figuratively patting myself on the back. I walked for awhile to cool down, letting the endorphin high rush through my body and then I crossed the street and popped into the quaint looking coffee shop on the corner. I didnt see anyone working behind the counter when I first walked in, so I looked around, confused. That is when I spotted the man sitting on a small bench beside the counter, nearly hidden from where I was standing. He was reading the New York Times and he clearly hadn't heard anyone come into the shop. Either that or he just didn't care to get up and help a customer. But I was in too good of a mood from my run that I didnt even mind. So I walked over to the barista and standing right in front of him, started talking.

"Hi!" I say cheerily and he looks up at me. He looks to be about my age, with warm eyes and an easy smile that came fast.

"That was quite a hello," He says. "You must be in a good mood."

"I guess I am. Now, anyway..." I say.

"Now?" He asks, standing up and heading behind the counter. But not before I could see the page of the newspaper he had been reading: page six.

"These past few days have been a rollercoaster. But I just, I dont know, ran it out?" I surmise, half for my benefit and half for his.

"Ah, one of those weeks, huh? Well, what can I get you?"

I looked around the coffee shop, only realizing now that it was completely empty. A nearly empty coffee shop? That never happens in New York Citu. Then my eyes read the coffee menu, on the chalkboard leaning against the wall on the counter. I scanned it.

"I will have the peppermint latte," I say.

"Interesting choice," he responds, and starts to work on the expresso. "You jog in the neighborhood?"

"Through the park, yeah," I say. "I just moved around here, actually."

"Oh, cool," He says, steaming the milk. "Whereabouts?"

"Right by the park."

"Which street?"

I had been trying to avoid saying it, knowing how pretentious the street would sound. Especially to a barista. But I didnt want to be rude, either.

"Central Park South," I all but whisper. He eyes, not giving much away. I feel like I need to justify myself somehow. "My husband...he actually lives in the building. So I'm just moving in with him."

"You just get married or something?"

I nod. "Just a few days ago, actually. "

"Well, congratulations, " He says, smiling at me. But then, suddenly, something clicks in the baristas eyes and he looks right at me again. "I know who you are." He says, pouring the milk over the expresso. "You're Christian Cartwright's new wife."

I looked at the floor, overwhelmed with the urge to grab the coffee and go. But I hadn't paid yet.

"Right?" He pressed.

"Yes." I say.

"I knew it! I recognized you from The Times announcement. And your wedding photos are everywhere. Duh, of course its you."

He hands my cup, leaning foward onto the counter and really sizing me up. "So, why the rollercoaster of a week, then?"

"Oh, it's nothing. How much do I owe you?"

"A real response," He says, but then smiles. "Its on the house. You are a first time customer. "

"You dont have to do that..."

"Seriously, " He says, putting a hand up. "Its nice to meet you. Take the drink. I'm Jason. Jason Sterling." And he held out his hand, so I shook it.

"AnnaLeigh...Cartwright."

"Hi, AnnaLeigh. Okay. So back to you. You dont have to tell me anything because I'm clearly a stranger but whatever your mood swing was about, just know that you have it pretty good. You are married to the richest, coolest man in the city. Seriously. Every girl wants him and every guy wants to be him. You know?"

"No. I...I know." I stutter, not used to his no filter way of talking. "I'm really happy. To be married. Really."

He kept his eyes on me and I hope I wasn't giving anything away.

"Anyway, thank you for the late. Its delicious. And it was nice to meet you." I say, turning for the door.

"Hey, I'm here, like, always," He says to my retreating figure. "If you ever want a friend or another ridiculously good peppermint latte, come on over."

"Okay," I say, offering one last wave before I walked back outside onto the street where no one knew my secrets. I checked my phone to see if I had any missed calls from my brother, Micheal, but all I saw was a black screen. My phone had died, probably while I was jogging. Great.

I was in the elevator, daydreaming about the warm shower I was about to take, when the doors opened and snapped me out of it. And there, sitting on the large cream colored armchair was Mr. Cartwright.

"Ah, there she is! Come, come, darling." He says, standing to greet me.

I walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek, seeing my seething husband on the couch across from him. Christain didnt stand.

"I didnt know you were coming. I would have been here." I say.

"Nonsense. I didnt want to disrupt your day. Anything fun planned?"

"I was just jogging." My gaze went to Christian. He was shooting daggers at me and looking a little worse for wear.

"Do you have anything fun planned, Christian?" I ask, trying to show Mr. Cartwright that the newlyweds were civil, at least.

"I go to work on weekdays." He says, patronizing me. "I'm actually running late, Dad."

"Right, right, of course." Mr. Cartwright says, standing up again. "Well I just wanted to drop in and see how the lovebirds were doing. It looks great in here, doesnt it?"

"It does." I say and Christian just nods.

Mr. Cartwright comes to kiss me on the cheek again and then shakes his sons hand.

"I'm happy you are here AnnaLeigh," He says before he gets to the elevator. "You are part of the family now."

"Me too." I choke out. "Thank you." And then he was gone.

I thought I would be in the clear to take a shower when I heard something shatter behind me. I turned around to find Christian, standing still and staring at me, shards of what was once a glass vase on the floor on front of him. I was shocked. He had clearly just dropped it on the floor.

"Clean it." He says.

What?

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You want to cause problems in my life, inviting my own father over without giving me some advanced warning, then I will throw it right back at you. This is a mess I made. You clean it."

I was stunned. "I didnt...I didnt invite him." I said, knowing my voice was sounding weaker by the second.

"You can lie all you want. Wouldn't be too out of character. "

"I'm not lying." But by then he was already slamming his bedroom door and I could hear a female giggle inside.

Just how much can I endure? And I begin to clean up the broken glass, fighting back the tears as I do so.