Chapter 14

I traipsed into the chapel the next morning to find Frankie and Mark arguing. What they were arguing over wasn’t clear. Their wide, gesturing arms and fiery red faces didn’t give me any clues, except to point out that I should retreat and come back when the chapel returned to normal. I snorted. Normal.

“Nadia!” Frankie called, peering around Mark’s shoulder. Mark swiftly turned in my direction.

I bit back a sigh. Caught with no escape. I stepped farther into the room but left plenty of distance between me and the warring couple.

“Can you explain to Mark why I won’t change the theme to All Celebrities!”

“Since you never told me why,” I said, grasping for a reason, “I can only assume it’s because you’re good at celebrity impersonations and that it’s the name of the chapel. And, therefore, you’d have the hassle of changing signs and business cards,” I concluded, hoping that answer would relieve me of having to come up with additional theories.

“Exactly! And it’s mine! My chapel!” Frankie bellowed as if even the clouds dared to dispute his claim.

“You’re being unreasonable. We have enough space to create more themes,” Mark argued. “We could have it all!”

“That is assuming I’d want to move my business over to your building. I like my theme and my building!”

“My building is better,” Mark huffed.

“Your building is missing a turret!” Frankie barked.

“And whose fault is that?” Mark snipped.

“Yours!” Frankie argued. “You brought Muffin down upon yourself.”

Mark bristled. “You know damn well it was your fault. You and your misfits have been nothing but a plague!”

Misfits?

“Are you calling my staff misfits?” Frankie gasped. “I have a hard-working and loyal team. Well, except for Nadia who jumped ship and left me stranded.”

“Left you stranded?” I interrupted, knowing it was a bad idea to cut in. But, really, I was the one forced out of my apartment.

“Yes! But that’s not the point. The point is: I’m not going into business with a pigheaded man!”

“Pigheaded!” Mark fumed. “How dare you! If anyone is pigheaded, it’s you! How many times have I tried to arrange the cupboards so it’s easier to find things? Every time I move something, you move it back.”

“They’re my cupboards, and I like the way they are.”

“The glasses should be near the refrigerator and sink. The cooking utensils should be near the stove. I nearly burnt Gus’s mahi mahi looking for a spatula!”

“They’re my glasses and utensils!” Frankie snapped with flaring nostrils.

My eyes volleyed between the two chapel owners, and it dawned on me what the real problem was.

“Aren’t the two weeks of servitude up?” I asked, halting the bickering. Frankie and Mark whipped their attention to me in a mixture of bitterness and horror. And there it was; the reason for the arguments. Neither wanted to separate and yet neither was willing to say the words.

After a moment of stunned and awkward silence, Frankie gave a tight nod. “That’s right. The two weeks are up. I guess that means I no longer require your services, Mark,” he said to the floor.

Mark’s mouth hung open. He quickly collected himself and replied, “Then I will be on my way. Just give me a moment to pack my things.” He bustled out of the chapel.

Frankie’s eyes lifted from the floor to see Mark bound up the stairs. His eyes never left Mark’s trail. I waited for a moment but there was no sign of movement from Frankie.

“Frankie, I’m sorry I brought up the two weeks,” I said.

He shook himself out of the trance and kicked at the floor. “No. It had to be said. We’ve been fighting like this the last few days. I didn’t want to tell him his time was up. It was easier to fight.”

“Why not admit you want him to stay?”

“Because I don’t know if I do,” Frankie said with a helpless shrug. “I like my chapel the way it is. I like being single.”

“But do you like Mark more?”

Frankie blinked against misted eyes. “I don’t know. Will you excuse me? I have some business to take care of.” He didn’t wait for a response as he escaped to the parking lot. I watched as he climbed into Lucille and started the engine.

Poor Frankie.

I walked upstairs to find Frankie’s door wide open. I caught a glimpse of a stuffed lion lounging on the couch. The lion was a little too tubby, like he ate one too many hot dogs.

“Gus?” I wondered. A scowling-faced lion yawned. I crossed over to the couch and peered down. It was definitely Gus. The lion costume strained against his pudgy belly. “I thought you’d be dressed as a princess,” I said as I gave him a few pets. He pawed at the fringed lion’s mane made of yarn.

“Frankie said I should stop dressing him in princess outfits for a while,” Mark sniffled, rolling his suitcase out of the bedroom. “Gus was starting to think he was a princess and was quite demanding.”

I eyed the sprawled-out Gus with a disbelieving brow. “He seems the same.”

“It’s the lion costume. It’s really helped his self-esteem. I guess Frankie is right,” Mark said, sniffling louder. “Sometimes I try to make something into what it’s not and people into who they aren’t.”

“I don’t think Frankie believes that. He just needs time.”

Mark shook his head and snatched a tissue from a quilted pig on the end table. “He’s right. I’m a meddling fool. I’m always sticking my nose in where it doesn’t belong. I’ll just go home and reopen Fairytale Chapel. Pretending to be Prince Charming is easier than . . .” Mark broke into a full-body sob.

Ah, geez! I knew I shouldn’t have stopped.

“Don’t. Mind. Me,” he said between sobbing hiccups. “I’ll. Leave. And. Never. Return!”

My eyes rolled to the ceiling. Dear Lord.

“Frankie will come around,” I said. “He needs time. I understand how he feels. It’s too fast and too much all at once.”

“What about how I feel? While he’s keeping me at a distance, what do I do? How should I feel?” Mark blew his nose. “I’d wait for him for an eternity if he’d give me a sign. Any sign. I’ve already waited a long time. Years! But he doesn’t say anything. I think it’s time to move on,” he said, grasping onto a thread of thought. “I’ll close the chapel and move. It’s the only way for me to get over him.”

“Don’t do that,” I hurried to say. “He’ll come around. I know he will.”

“How do you know?”

“If he didn’t like you, he’d never have let you stay in his apartment.”

“He let Leopard Pants stay in his apartment.”

“Just to make you mad, and then he sent him home after a day or two. He didn’t send you home.”

“That’s because I was his servant. He had to let me stay.”

“He let you stay because he enjoys your company. If he didn’t like you, there’s no way he’d let you into his hallowed bachelor pad. He’d have made you show up every morning and then go home every night.”

Mark gave a defeated laugh. “He just doesn’t care for me enough to keep me around. I give up. It hurts too much to hope for something that will never happen.” He turned and headed for the door. “Come on, Gus. It’s time to go home.”

Gus watched as Mark walked to the door. When Mark opened the door, Gus stood with a stretch and waddled down the doggy stairs toward Mark. They moved companionably together down the hall.

Mark had his cell phone at his ear. “Fix the turret as soon as possible. I want the building on the market by next week.”

He’s leaving for good, I thought as they walked downstairs and out of sight.

And he stole my cat!

Huh.

Do I run after him and get my cat back? As much as I hate to admit it, Gus did receive more attention from Mark. He seemed happy even though he was dressed in embarrassing costumes. And he did leave of his own accord. Gus had never followed me unless baited with a hot dog. A sobering thought.

Gus will be okay. I’ll check on him and Mark in a day or two.

Mark’s words replayed as I walked upstairs. He’s right. If he wasn’t given any sign from Frankie, why should he wait? Another sobering thought: Why should Caleb and Greyson wait for me, especially after I left Caleb after dinner?

I had run.

Again!

“What the hell is wrong with me?” I shouted in the stairwell. What if they’ve finally had enough? I’ll make a decision today. Enough is enough! I refuse to prolong this and drag everyone’s heart through the muck. But how do I decide?

I listened at my apartment door. It was quiet. Did Muffin and Piñata leave? They could be asleep. It was ten o’clock, but that doesn’t mean anything in this building. In fact, I was surprised Frankie and Mark were awake.

I knocked on the door, thinking I’d rather be safe than sorry. Some images can’t be erased from memory no matter how much alcohol you consume.

I waited a few moments before knocking again. When I was confident Muffin and Piñata were gone, I placed the key in the lock. I should call Caleb and apologize. Actually, I should go over and apologize in person. I know exactly how to beg for forgiveness. I smiled. I’ll just grab a few things from the apartment and head over. God, I hope he’s not too mad.

I turned the key and cracked the door open to peek inside. I heard a click before the air shifted as if caught in a vacuum, then it blew out in raging force. The door slammed, ripping the entire frame from the wall as the apartment exploded into a fireball.

I crashed into the hallway wall. The flying door sandwiched me in place. Burning debris caved in around me, trapping me in my spot. Smoke billowed from the apartment as fire engulfed the ceiling with licking flames. I struggled with the door so I could escape. The knob was jammed painfully in my side. I couldn’t budge it—especially not with only one working arm.

“Dammit!” I cried, pounding against my prison. “Help!” I screamed to an empty building, coughing as thick smoke infiltrated my lungs.

Oh, God! I’ll never see him again, I thought as his face flashed through my mind. How could I not have seen it? How could I have been so confused?

Coughing as the smoke suffocated the air, I clawed at the door, holding onto my last bit of consciousness. My eyes burned as though carpeted in ash.

A shadow ran through the smoky stairwell and stopped in front of me. Was it my dark spirits again?

Damn spirits!

I coughed, drifting into unconsciousness.