My Next Door Neighbor

CHAPTER TWO: THE DEVIL NEXT DOOR

NATHAN’s POV:

The woman next door was going to be a problem.

I knew it the second the U-Haul tried to squeeze past my Bentley at 9:14pm.

She was standing in the driveway with her hands on her hips, curls falling out of a messy bun, sweat shining on her collarbones. She looked exhausted. Pissed off. And God help me, she was the most beautiful thing I’d seen all month.

Dark chocolate skin. Black-shiny colored curls stuck to her neck. A black American.

She was 5’9 of trouble, and she didn’t have a clue.

I should’ve rolled the window down, said something neighborly.

Instead, I revved the engine.

Headlights hit her full in the face and she threw a hand up, stumbling back a step. Clumsy, cute.

I almost laughed. She’s amusing.

The sound she made wasn’t a scream. It was more like an irritated huff. Like I’d personally offended her ancestors.

Good. Let her be mad.

Mad was easier than whatever this pull in my chest was.

I tore out of the compound, tires screeching, kicking up gravel, and didn’t look back.

I Scoff, and looked back in the rearview.

She was still standing there. Staring at my house. At the dark windows and the dead lawn and the life I’d built to keep people out.

I wondered why she so seemed interested.

*****

Back at the house, I poured a glass of whiskey and stood, peering from my kitchen window, across to her room window. I could see her. Her lights were on now. One by one, little warm squares in the dark, her boxes, I suppose.

She moved around inside like she was trying to figure out where everything should fit. I watched her drop something. Bend to pick it up. Hit her head on the dress counter and curse.

I almost smiled.

Thirty-nine years old, CEO of Westbrook Holdings. Owned half of downtown Austin.

And I was standing in the dark watching my new neighbor trip over her own boxes.

This was pathetic.

She was temporary. Everyone was.

I took a gulp.

The whiskey burned.

It didn’t burn as much as the way she’d looked at my car. Like I was the problem.

She wasn’t wrong.

I drained the glass and told myself, she was going to leave, just like the other neighbors.

It wasn’t going to be too long, she’d get tired, tired of my lifestyle, of the rules.

I smiled, sarcastically.

I walked out of my kitchen into my library, getting ready to be buried in work.

I have a meeting with some external stakeholders from the company the next morning, and I needed to prepare for it.

Then my phone rang.

I didn't have to look to know who it was. Only one person called at 11:47 p.m. like she paid rent here.

EMILY.

The screen glowed against the dark wood. I stared at it, let it ring.

Once, twice.

I told myself to let it go to voicemail. I had told Dianne to block her number from the office line three weeks ago. I should have blocked her on my personal line too.

It rang again. And again.

I exhaled, hard, and picked up.

"What, Emily?"

A pause. Then that voice. That practiced, soft, injured voice.

"Nath. Really?"

There it was. Nobody else called me that. It was a name I’ve always loved, hearing her call me that now, made me suddenly dislike it.

"Do you actually see my call and ignore on purpose? Or are you just that busy pretending you don't know me anymore?"

"I'm working," I said.

"At almost twelve? God, you haven't changed at all."

I leaned against the desk. "Why are you calling?"

"You didn't come to brunch. My mother asked about you."

"Your mother and I have nothing to discuss."

"Nathan." Her voice sharpened. "You can't just cut everyone off because you're in a mood. We were together for two years. That has to count for something."

"It counted. It's done."

Silence. I could hear her breathing, waiting for me to soften. I didn't.

"Is there someone else?" she asked quietly. "Is that why you're being like this?"

"No," I said.

"Then why—"

"Emily, I have a meeting at eight tomorrow. Say what you need to say or don't say it at all."

She laughed, but it wasn't kind. "You know, one day that whole control freak thing is not going to work on everyone. One day someone is going to see right through you."

"Goodnight, Emily."

"Nath, wait—"

I ended the call.

I set the phone face-down on the desk and stared at it like it might ring again. It didn't.

I exhaled hard, and long.

Memories of our once happy relationship flashed through my mind. I quickly discarded them.

We were done. For good. I was over her anyway. She should be too.

I opened a report. Page fourteen was still wrong.

I sighed. Is this really all they came up with?

Well, I was going to deal with that at the board meeting tomorrow.

I rubbed my eyes tiredly and got back to work.