The Sleeping Arrangement, page 1
The Sleeping Arrangement
A Novel by Neva Bell
© 2019 Neva Bell
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact:
NevaBellBooks@gmail.com
This work is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses or companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by Barbara Schwenzer
olibeebees@gmail.com; IG: @olibees
For my son.
I love you!
Chapter One
“I’m not going to sugarcoat it Julie…you’re broke,” my accountant Tom says with a frown.
I smile back at him. Tom tells me this every time we meet. I don’t know why he thinks I’ll be shocked by his assessment of my finances.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. But are my taxes done?” I ask.
Tom hands me a small stack of paperwork. “Yes, they are. Tell your brother his are done too.” Tom glances at his computer. “And he only has a few days before they have to be filed.”
I review my tax forms. Pretty sad stuff. I sign my name, Julie Michaels, on the bottom line in blue ink. I hand the paperwork back to Tom and wait as he shuffles the documents around.
I would guess Tom to be around sixty-years-old. He has an awful combover and he wears brown, tweed blazers, but he’s a sweet man and my saving grace.
Tom turns his attention back to me. “Before you leave, let’s talk about your current financial situation.”
Tom has been my accountant for the last ten years. I was only sixteen when he approached me and my brother, Jeremy, at my grandmother’s funeral. As my grandmother’s accountant, Tom knew she left us a small inheritance. He offered to help us, free of charge, to make the money last as long as possible.
“You already told me Tom, I’m broke.”
“Yes, but you’re almost done with law school and you have a few job offers on the table. Any thoughts about what you’ll do after graduation?”
I shrug. “Honestly, I’ve been too busy with work and school to think about it.”
Tom’s forehead wrinkles. “I don’t like you working so much. You have to focus on school.”
I smile. “I need the money Tom. How else am I going to pay off Jeremy’s school debt? The payment for this semester is already past due. They could kick him out any day now.”
Tom wags a finger at me. “Let Jeremy worry about Jeremy. You worry about yourself. Worst case scenario, he delays his graduation a little.”
“No,” I say firmly. “He needs to graduate in a year so he can start law school next fall.”
Tom is unmoved. “Jeremy put himself in this predicament Julie. If he waits until you’re done with law school to finish his undergraduate studies, it would make your life a lot easier.”
I don’t blame Tom for being concerned. My brother and I are complete opposites on the responsibility spectrum. At least we used to be. I worked full-time during college, got excellent grades, and finished a semester early.
Jeremy, on the other hand, flaked out when it came time to start college. He dropped out at least three times and couldn’t hold down a job. But he is back on track. He has one more year of college left and plans on following in my footsteps by going to law school.
I sigh. “Tom, I don’t want to stop his progress.”
Tom’s brow furrows. “Are you worried he’ll fall back into drinking?”
“A little,” I admit. “I have to keep working so we can pay off what he owes the school. They’ve already extended the deadline for us twice. I don’t think they’ll do it again.”
“I understand where you’re coming from Julie, but you need to take care of yourself. Jeremy needs to grow up and handle his own problems.”
“I’m the big sister, remember?” I remind Tom. “It’s my job to look out for him. I’m all he has left.”
Tom’s face softens. “You’ve bent over backwards for your brother. I certainly hope he appreciates it.”
“He does. He’s doing great in school and he’s working full-time. You’ll see when you meet with him. He’s in a much better place.”
Tom heartily disagrees with my decision to bail Jeremy out, but he lets the subject drop. “Fine. Tell your brother to get his butt down here by Friday. In the meantime, I’ll file your taxes.”
“Thanks,” I stand up, then sit back down. “Tom…” I hesitate as he looks up at me. “I just want to say that you have been a lifesaver for the last ten years.” My eyes tear up. “I wouldn’t have made it through of all of this without you.”
Tom’s hazel eyes glisten as he reaches across his desk and pats my hand. “Your grandmother was an amazing person and I enjoyed working with her immensely. Your family has a soft spot in my heart. Helping you and Jeremy has been my pleasure.”
I wipe a tear from my cheek and smile. “Alright, no more mushy stuff. I’m out of here.”
As I stand up, a loud clap of thunder makes me jump.
“Jeez!” I exclaim as I catch my breath. “That scared the crap out of me!”
“It was a loud one,” Tom agrees.
Grabbing my purse, I walk over to Tom’s window and see dark clouds looming above us. Lightening scatters across the sky. It’s going to start pouring any minute.
“Did you park in the underground garage?” Tom asks me.
“Yes. Thank goodness.”
“I heard on the radio this morning we are supposed to get one hell of a storm today. I guess the weatherman was actually right this time.”
I turn back to Tom. “I better get out of here. I have to be to work in forty-five minutes and I’m sure the rain will slow me down.”
Tom walks with me to the elevator. He works for a large CPA firm in downtown Cincinnati. Tom looks a bit out of place in the modern, sleek office, but everyone smiles and says, “Hi” as we pass. I imagine the other accountants see Tom as a mentor. It’s impossible not to like him.
Tom hits the down button for me when we reach the bank of elevators. “Take care of yourself. Your graduation is in what, five weeks?”
“Yep. Graduation is May 19th.”
Tom gives me a side hug. “You’ve worked very hard Julie. The end of your struggles is near.”
I grin. “Can’t come soon enough!”
I step into the elevator and slump against the railing once the doors close. My meetings with Tom are bittersweet. It’s nice to see him, but he reminds me of the life I once had.
My parents died when I was fifteen and my grandmother was our only living relative. She had a strained relationship with my parents, but she didn’t hesitate when Jeremy and I needed her the most. She accepted us into her home with open arms and treated us like we were her own children. A year later, she passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack. When she died, Jeremy and I were on our own.
At the ripe old age of sixteen, I was emancipated and working a full-time job after high school. I’ve been working like crazy ever since. My good grades helped when it came to tuition, but I still had to pay for books and living expenses. My friend Tiffany, my only remaining childhood friend, got me a waitressing job at her dad’s restaurant. The tips are so good, I don’t have to work a second job.
Tom pinched every penny and stretched our money where he could, but the last couple of years have been rough. When I’m done with school, I’ll be good to go. The problem is figuring out how to pay Jeremy’s college tuition bill in the meantime.
Soft music plays in the elevator as it descends from the twentieth floor. It’s a piano medley I’ve heard before, but I don’t know its name. I look at my reflection in the silver doors and run my fingers through my long, blonde hair. I need a haircut, but it’s an expense I can’t afford right now.
At least my outfit isn’t terrible. Tiffany gave me a pair of designer jeans and a new pair of pink and grey Chuck Taylor’s for my birthday. I found a pink zip-up hoodie in the Goodwill store that matches the shoes perfectly. The sweatshirt was only two dollars and it still had the tags on it. Someone paid forty-five dollars for this hoodie and never wore it. Her frivolousness is my gain.
I’m leaning against the metal railing on the elevator’s back wall when it stops on the fifteenth floor. I stand up straight before the doors open and step to the side to make room for whoever is getting in. When the doors open, my jaw almost hits the floor.
The man waiting to get in the elevator is easily a foot taller than me. I’d estimate his height to be around 6’8”. He’s wearing worn denim jeans, a black thermal and a grey Cincinnati Crushers hat. His shoes are Waters 2.0. The shoes are named after Drew Waters, the basketball star for the Crushers.
I’m not a huge fan of basketball, but I could pick the Waters 2.0 shoe from a lineup. They are electric blue to match their namesake’s bright blue eyes. When the shoes first came out, billboards popped up all over Cincinnati advertising them. The top half of the black billboard announced in white letters: “Still Waters Run Deep. Moving Waters Are Unstoppable.” The bottom half of the billboard was a close up of Drew’s eyes with ocean waves crashing inside them.
I thought the tagline was cheesy, but the image was striking. I’ve always had a thing for blue eyes. Probably because I wish mine were blue instead of chocolate brown.
The man struts into the elevator
As my elevator companion pushes the “Door Close” button, it finally hits me. I blink a few times to make sure I’m not seeing things. This tall man wearing Drew Waters’ signature shoe is Drew Waters! He has to be.
My brother is going to freak out when I tell him I rode in an elevator with Drew Waters. Jeremy is a huge fan. As a result, I know a lot about the man standing next to me. He is often referred to as “Larry Bird, Jr.” because he is a farm boy from Indiana who made it big in the professional basketball league. Like Larry, he doesn’t seem interested in fame and fortune.
“I’m here to play basketball,” I heard Drew tell an interviewer once. “I’m not sure what my personal life has to do with it.”
This was in response to the question, “What do you do in your free time?”
I stare at the metal doors as the elevator starts moving and debate whether I should say something. Jeremy will kill me if I don’t ask for an autograph, but I don’t want to annoy Drew either.
After a moment, I gather my courage and turn to Drew. He is leaning against the side of the elevator with his arms crossed. His demeanor doesn’t exactly scream, “Talk to me,” but I go for it anyway.
“Um…excuse me,” I say sheepishly.
Drew glances over at me.
I give him an uneasy smile. “Is it rude if I ask for an autograph?”
The corners of his lips turn up a little. “If it is, people are rude to me all the time.”
I chuckle, relieved he didn’t shoot me down. “I bet.”
“Yeah, I can sign something for you,” he says in a smooth, masculine voice.
The elevator stops on the tenth floor and a man in a business suit steps inside. He hits the button for the sixth floor, then does a double take when he sees Drew. Instead of playing it cool, the man gawks. He doesn’t even bother to turn around and face the doors. He just stands there staring at Drew. I shake my head as I rummage through my purse for a piece of paper and a pen. I can’t believe how rude the man is being.
When the elevator stops on the sixth floor, the man doesn’t get out.
“Is this your floor?” Drew asks with a hint of annoyance.
“Um, yeah,” the man mumbles before stepping out. He stares at Drew with his mouth ajar until the doors close.
Yeesh. Now I feel really bad that I asked for an autograph. Poor guy can’t ride an elevator without being bombarded.
“This is all I have,” I say as I hand Drew the notepad and pen I found in my purse. “I’m sorry to bother you like this.”
Drew glances down at my notepad for a second and then back at me. His entire demeanor changes. His eyes are hard and his jawline firm.
“I don’t sign autographs for junkies,” he snaps before handing me my paper and pen back.
Shocked, I mutter, “What?”
Drew points at my notepad. “I don’t want people selling my autograph so they can buy drugs.” He looks completely disgusted and takes a step away from me.
I’m confused by the sudden turn of events. I finally put two and two together when I see the notepad I grabbed. Across the top, it reads, “Cincinnati Drug and Alcohol Rehab Center.”
Disbelief and anger fill my veins. I return his cold stare.
“I volunteer at the Rehab Center twice a week. I help people get back on their feet,” I explain to him in a huff. I put the notepad and pen back in my purse and zip it shut. “The autograph was for my brother. He loves you.”
I cross my arms and stand in front of the doors, ready to bolt as soon as they open.
Drew frowns. “Oh, sorry.” He extends his hand. “Here, give me the notepad. I’ll sign it.”
He sounds apologetic, but I’m upset. “Never mind.”
Drew takes a step toward me. “Hey, I didn’t mean to…” but he’s cut off when the elevator jerks to a stop.
We are both thrown off balance and I grab the railing to stay upright. The overhead lights flicker twice, then turn off. The music stops and silence fills the space. It is pitch black and I can’t see a thing.
“What the hell?” Drew mutters to my right.
I fumble with the zipper on my purse. I feel around for my cell phone, but Drew finds his first. He’s mumbling and cursing under his breath as he shines the light from his phone around the elevator. Once I find my phone, I use the light to locate the red button with a fireman hat on it on the control panel. As soon as I press it, an alarm goes off.
“That’s annoying as hell,” Drew grumbles.
I stay calm despite my growing panic. “Someone will hear it and they’ll know we’re stuck in here.”
Drew bangs on the elevator doors. “Hey!”
The loud noise makes me cringe. “I don’t think that will help.”
“You got any bright ideas?” he sneers.
Without responding, I dial 9-1-1 on my phone. A female voice answers on the third ring. “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
“Hi. I’m stuck in an elevator and I’m not sure who else to call,” I tell the dispatcher.
“Where are you miss?”
Drew stands by my side and listens as I give the operator the details about where we are.
“I’ve got your location, but it may be a while before we get to you. The tornado knocked out power to a significant portion of the downtown metro area.”
“A tornado?” I ask shocked. I envision half of Tom’s building being gone and the elevator dangling in the wind, held up by nothing but a couple of cables.
“Yes. It hit a power station a few minutes ago and it’s causing all kinds of problems,” the dispatcher explains.
My voice is shaky. “Are we in danger?”
“No, the tornado was minor. Unfortunately, it touched down long enough to cause damage at the power station.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Any idea how long we’ll be in here?”
“I’ll get people to you as soon as I can, but like I said, it may be a while,” the dispatcher says with sympathy. “We’re getting a lot of calls.”
I thank the dispatcher and hang up. Judging by the scowl on Drew’s face, he heard most of the conversation.
“This sucks,” I say as I click the internet icon on my phone. I want to look up information about the storm, but decide against it. I don’t want to waste any of my phone’s battery life.
I glance up at Drew and I’m dismayed by the expression on his face. His eyes are wild.
“Are you okay?” I ask him.
“We have to get out of here!”
He looks like a caged animal as he starts banging on the doors again. Every thud hammers my eardrums.
I reach my hand up and touch Drew’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be alright. Help is on the way.”
Drew brushes my hand away and continues banging on the doors. Each bang echoing through our confined space.
“Please Drew. Calm down,” I beg him.
“No! I will not calm down!” he yells. “I’m trapped in this tiny box and I need to get the hell out of here!”
The veins in Drew’s neck strain as he pries the elevator doors open with his hands. He is able to move the doors a few inches, but the opening reveals nothing but thick metal plates and concrete.
I groan. “Figures. We’re in-between floors.”
Drew points above us. “Where’s that light coming from?”
I glance up. There are two inches of light at the top of the gap Drew created by opening the doors. “It’s the floor above us.”
“They have power. Why don’t we?” Drew asks.
“The light is probably coming from a window close to the elevator,” I speculate. “It’s too faint to be an overhead light.”
“Fuck!” Drew yells as he manages to open the doors a bit more.
“We can’t get out of here. There’s nothing behind these doors except solid wall. We have to wait for someone to come get us.”
Drew shines his cell phone light up toward the ceiling. We both spot a small trap door at the same time. After a few fruitless attempts at jumping up and smacking the door, Drew drops to his hands and knees.
