WHAT'S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT WHEN CARMA'S INVOLVED?

SIETE

Buying property was the first thing I did after receiving a small chunk of my trust fund when I turned eighteen. The loft best suited Harmoney and it had become available. Had I known the roof needed repairs, I would never have put her or anyone in harm’s way like that. I’m truly upset over it and glad she wasn’t hurt. In need of another place to lay her head, I had bigger and better that would suit her personality. Not too long ago, I bought a hotel that was going under and turned it into affordable housing. The first six floors have been converted to accommodate families with children. The rest have had conversions as well, giving all apartments one or two bedrooms, a kitchen, living room, and bathroom. Mostly for singles or couples. The last two apartments were recently finished. Penthouse suites, just smaller. They used to be the entire floor and included an upstairs. I had it cut in half down the middle, keeping the two floors. One half is to be occupied by a tenet, and the other half is my sanctuary. It’s a great place, and I know Harmoney is going to fall in love with it. My Carma is a btch, and it took some coaxing on my part for Harmoney to take the short drive in my car because she was concerned about upsetting Carma more than she already had.

When we arrived, she pointed out that she could get her own hotel room. The sign hasn’t been replaced, so I understood her confusion. Harmoney looked impressed after I shared what I did with the place and why. She knew there was an unoccupied apartment on the top floor, and I fell short of telling her that I was her neighbor. My work and clients have been suffering because of Carma. She finds me at the office, she doesn't leave me alone at home. I need silence to be able to help those that hired me. She won’t find me here because the place is rented to Mrs. Erma Blackburn, a name I pulled out of thin air. And yes, I pay rent to make it look good.

A few steps in and she exclaimed, “Wow. Look at this place.” Joking around, I asked her to fill out an application located on the counter. She turned, donning a confused look before realizing I was messing with her. There were other applicants hoping for the apartment, but I had the final say. “Funny, Mr. Savage.”

“We are not at work. I don’t mind if you call me Alixx.”

“It doesn’t matter if we are at work or not. You are one of my bosses and I do not feel comfortable stepping over that line. Look what happened when I called you this morning.”

“Carma is quite the btch, isn’t she?”

She laughed so hard she snorted and that made her laugh harder. I joke all the time and never get that type of reaction from my.... from Carma. Other girls I involved myself with faked their laughs. Trust me, anyone could tell. Harmoney’s laugh was loud and hearty, like it came from her toes. I joined in her fun, not because of the joke, but because her laugh is infectious. Her face turned red, tears dribbled from the corners of her eyes, and the funniest part of all, she grabbed her crotch to stop herself from peeing.

I stopped laughing and turned around. Such a small piece of enjoyment made me realize I was emotionally cheating on my fiancé and laughing at her expense no less. I cannot deny the attraction to Harmoney's intellect, bubbly personality, or perfect smile that showed a hint of her front teeth when it was sincere. Hearing her joyful roar of a laugh added to the compact list of things I found attractive about her. Spending time with her is...... uncomplicated and cushy, the way it has never been with Carma.

Lightly touching my shoulder, she inquired, “Is everything alright?”

My response was quick, flawless, and a total lie. Using one of my cases as a reason for my sudden lack of interest, I asked if she liked it enough to claim it as hers. Cost concerned her. With five bedrooms upstairs, two having full baths, another bathroom down the hall, two more bedrooms downstairs, both having full baths, then there’s the kitchen, den, living room, office around the corner, and a half bath off the kitchen with a washer dryer hookup. As I thought about it, I gave her the option to buy versus renting. It was more than big enough for her to start a family. Giving her free roam of the place, I left the apartment to make a call and find out why there was a hole where the dishwasher was supposed to be.

I don’t know why I said anything about her starting a family. Things slip through the filter sometimes. Before I could open my phone, Carma called. Yelling started before I could say hello. She demanded to know where I was, who I was with, and why I had not been in the office all day. Finally able to get a word in when she ran out of breath, I told her an apartment was being shown. Not that I was showing it alone, obviously. Never have I not been with someone from the realty company when viewings happened. And last but not least, I told her I was still working and unable to do it from behind my desk. All truths with a few minor details omitted. I told her I would be home later than usual, and I’d see her then. I wanted to remain in Harmoney's atmosphere for as long as I could. What else can I say? She is breathtakingly intoxicating.

“I love it. Especially the hardwood floors.” She startled me.

Ugly rugs once covered the floors. It made me happy to learn they were salvageable. Dangling the keys in front of her face resulted in a smile and her pretending to think about the offer. I told her she could have the locks changed and, as far as furniture, she could pick out whatever she wanted and hand me the bill. I lied about the dishwasher, but I would get right on it. She was over the moon happy with her new home and told me about all the things she planned to do to make it her own. A fifteen-minute ride back was all it took to learn she loved art and music. For me, those two things go hand in hand. Cooking was her passion, but so was successfully arguing and winning. I already knew from the way she dressed; she loved fashion. Cars were not on my list of things I thought she liked. She likes admiring them, that’s it. Most of all, I learned she is a caring and compassionate person. Everything Carma is not and never will be.

Dropping her off at her old home to pack, I noticed there was more pep in my step thanks to the day spent with her. I knew to curb that feeling before I got home. Before I did, I stopped by the realtor’s office to have them remove the listing for the penthouse and draw up the paperwork for the current purchase and to have them rescind the contract on her current dwelling due to an act of Mother Nature. By tomorrow, all changes should be in effect. After that, I stopped at my favorite restaurant to grab a seafood platter. My giddiness wanted something greasy, and I love seafood. Besides, Carma does not cook, so if I do not fend for myself, I’d starve.

Boston harbor is beautiful any time of year, at any time you decide to stop by to admire the view. Finding the perfect admiration spot, I removed my greasy but oh-so-good seafood from the paper bag and savored every morsel. The fries were perfectly crisped, not soggy like most places. The fish was battered twice to give it the crunch I loved to hear. The scallops were not overcooked, and they melted in my mouth. I ask them to substitute whole clams for clam strips because I do not like bellies. No matter where I get them from, it’s like I am chewing on rubber. Same goes for a clam boil. I will eat everything except the snots in shells. Bet you will not look at clams the same way now. Ha. You’re welcome. With a full belly, I drove home.

When I arrived, my best friend’s car was in my driveway. I found it odd because he normally calls before showing up. I didn’t think much of it as I walked into the house. Evan and Carma cannot stand each other. They can’t be in the same room without a fight breaking out between them. That leaves me stuck in the middle. Do I choose Evan, my buddy since I can remember, or the woman I’m in a relationship with? If either one of them cared enough about me, they’d figure out how to make it work for my sanity. I expected to hear shouting and cursing. Maybe some breaking glass, but I heard nothing and there was not a thing out of place. Creeping around my own house was weird. No one was on the first floor. I looked up from the bottom of the stairs and listened. Still, I heard nothing. That didn’t stop me from silently stalking up the stairs. At the top, I scanned the hall. The only door closed was my bedroom door. Which it should not have been.

Standing outside the door, I heard noises. Giggling, moaning, some oooh’s and aaah’s coming from a male and a female. Grabbing the handle tightly, I twisted it slowly until it wouldn’t twist anymore. One hand gripping the handle ready to break it off, I placed my other hand flat on the door itself and ever so slowly and gently pushed it a c*nt hair at a time until I had a full view of what was going on behind my closed bedroom door.

Evan and Carma were in the same room. They were fighting in a sense. I could not take my eyes off my fiancé, propped up on a pillow, with my buddy’s nuts whacking her ass as he pumped fiercely in and out of a place that was off limits to me. I was riveted. I knew she was fcking her ex, now she was fcking Evan. I don’t think I blinked the entire time. Evan collapsed on top of her when he finished, and I slipped away, leaving the door ajar.

Looks like they figured out how to make it work. It wasn't for my sanity; I’ll tell you that. There was a pull-out sofa in my office. That’s where I spent the night.