Chapter 6: Moving In
1514 Words
Emma stood outside the luxury apartment building on East 72nd Street, holding two suitcases and a cardboard box that contained her entire life. The doorman, a distinguished-looking man in his fifties wearing a crisp uniform, smiled at her warmly.
"You must be Mrs. Stone," he said, taking her suitcases. "I'm James. Welcome to the building."
Mrs. Stone. Emma's stomach fluttered every time someone called her that. James handed her an envelope with her name in Alex's handwriting. Inside was a key card and a note.
Emma – This is your home for the next year. I hope you'll be comfortable here. Please change anything you don't like. I've also included a credit card for personal expenses. Call me if you need anything. – Alex
The apartment took Emma's breath away. Unlike the sterile temporary place from yesterday, this space felt warm and lived-in. The living room had comfortable furniture in soft blues and creams, with throw pillows that looked carefully chosen. Large windows overlooked a tree-lined street, and afternoon sunlight streamed across hardwood floors.
"The kitchen is fully stocked," James explained. "There's grocery delivery service – just call the number on the refrigerator. Building has a gym, laundry room, and roof garden."
After James left, Emma sat on the beautiful couch and felt completely overwhelmed. This wasn't just a nicer place to live – it was a different universe. The couch probably cost more than she'd made last year. She unpacked her modest belongings, which looked lost in the enormous closet and out of place against the expensive decor.
Her phone rang. Sofia.
"Where are you? Mrs. Chen said you moved out yesterday. What's going on?"
Emma had been dreading this conversation. "I got a new place. It's temporary – house-sitting for a friend."
"What friend? You don't have friends with money."
"It's complicated."
"Emma, yesterday you were broke and desperate, today you're being secretive about moving. What happened?"
Emma touched her wedding ring, diamond turned toward her palm. "I found a solution. Mom's surgery was successful, all bills are paid."
"How did you get that kind of money overnight?"
"I got a really good job. Personal assistant work for a businessman. Housing included."
"You're lying to me."
Emma hated deceiving Sofia, but she'd signed a confidentiality agreement. "I'm safe, and Mom is going to be okay. That's what matters."
After Sofia hung up, Emma felt more alone than she had since her father left. She'd never kept secrets from Sofia before.
Emma walked to the hospital to see her mother, getting lost twice on the subway system. This part of Manhattan might as well have been a foreign country. By the time she arrived, Maria was sleeping peacefully, looking much better with color returning to her face.
When Emma finally made it back to her apartment after ten o'clock, she was exhausted and hungry. She didn't know how to work the fancy stove and hadn't figured out grocery delivery yet. She found crackers in the cabinet and ate them standing at the huge windows, looking out at a neighborhood where restaurants were busy with people who could afford dinner out every night.
Emma tried to relax in the beautiful bathtub, but she couldn't stop thinking about her old apartment. It had been small and the heat didn't always work, but it had been hers. Here, everything was perfect and unfamiliar and lonely.
Her phone buzzed. Alex.
How was your first day? I hope everything is comfortable.
It's beautiful. Thank you.
You sound like there's a 'but' coming.
It's just very different from what I'm used to.
Would you like to talk about it? We could meet somewhere neutral.
Could we meet somewhere? I'm still figuring out the neighborhood.
There's a café called Luna's on 73rd and Lexington. Very casual. 9 AM tomorrow?
Perfect. Thank you.
The next morning, Emma found Luna's Café – small tables with fresh flowers, expensive coffee, cozy atmosphere. Alex was already there, reading a business newspaper and wearing a gray sweater and jeans, looking younger and less formal than she'd seen him.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked, standing when he saw her.
"Eventually. That bed is incredibly comfortable."
Emma sat down. "I need to ask you something. The apartment isn't just furnished – it's decorated. Like someone chose every detail specifically. Did you do that?"
Alex looked slightly embarrassed. "I had a decorator help, but I gave her guidelines. I wanted it to feel warm, comfortable. Not like a hotel room."
"What kind of guidelines?"
"I told her to imagine decorating for someone who was smart and kind, who worked hard and cared about her family. Someone who deserved beautiful things but had never had the chance to have them."
Emma stared at him. "You told her that?"
"More or less."
"You don't even know me."
"I know you were willing to marry a stranger to save your mother's life. I know you work two jobs but still visited the hospital daily. I know you read the entire contract carefully. That tells me quite a lot."
Emma felt warmth spread through her chest. "The apartment is beautiful. But it doesn't feel like mine yet."
"That will come with time. You can change anything you want."
"I wouldn't know where to start."
"We could figure it out together."
They spent the next hour creating their fictional relationship story. They'd met six months ago when Alex came into Emma's diner. He'd been charmed by her wit and smile. They'd dated casually, taking walks through the city. Alex had been hesitant about commitment due to work, but Emma's patience had won him over. Quick engagement, private wedding because of Alex's travel schedule.
"What about my jobs?" Emma asked.
"Up to you. You don't need the money anymore."
Emma thought about Ruth and her regular customers. "I think I'd like to keep the diner job, at least part-time. And the accounting job – Mr. Henderson has been good to me."
Alex nodded approvingly. "That sounds like you. Most people would quit immediately if they didn't need to work."
"I'm not most people."
"No," Alex said warmly. "You're not."
Emma took a breath. "Why me? Really. You could have found someone who already knew how to be a rich man's wife."
Alex looked out the window. "When I met you, you were terrified and desperate, but you asked smart questions. You were brave enough to take a huge risk but careful enough to minimize potential harm. Most people would have been too proud or would have jumped at the money without thinking."
"You figured all that out from one dinner?"
"I'm good at reading people. It's necessary in business."
"And you thought those were good qualities for a fake wife?"
"I thought those were good qualities for a person," Alex said simply.
Emma felt herself blushing. "What's our first real test?"
"Next Saturday. Business dinner with a potential client and his wife. Nothing too formal, but our first time presenting as a married couple."
Emma's stomach fluttered. "What if I mess up?"
"You won't. And even if something goes wrong, it's not the end of the world. Would it help if we practiced? Dinner together a few times this week?"
"You'd do that?"
"For the next year, we're partners. Your success is my success."
After breakfast, Alex walked Emma back to her building. "You can call me anytime if you need anything. You don't have to figure out this new life completely alone."
"Thank you. And Alex? Thank you for caring about what kind of apartment I'd be comfortable in. Nobody's ever thought about things like that for me before."
"You deserve to have people care about your comfort, Emma. You deserve to have people care about what makes you happy."
Back in her apartment, Emma looked out at her new neighborhood. She could see families in the park, couples walking hand in hand. Normal people living normal lives, just in a nicer setting.
She texted her mother: *How are you feeling today?*
Much better, mija. Healing faster than expected. When can you visit?
This afternoon. I have something to tell you.
Good news, I hope?
Emma looked around her beautiful apartment, thought about her kind fake husband and her mother's recovery. Yes, Mama. Very good news.
That evening, Emma stood in front of her closet, trying to choose what to wear to dinner with Alex. She settled on her navy blue dress and tried to do something elegant with her hair. She was nervous about dinner, but it was a different kind of nervous – less terrified, more excited.
Maybe Sofia had been wrong about this being dangerous. Maybe Emma had found something rare – a business arrangement with someone genuinely kind, who cared about her success and saw qualities in her she hadn't known she possessed.
As Emma checked her appearance one more time, she realized she was looking forward to seeing Alex again. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to.
That was either very good news or very dangerous territory. Emma suspected it might be both.
- Writer
