That is the biggest sofa I've ever seen.
She'd slammed right into the back of it. Moving men stood at either end, holding the large piece of furniture up off the ground and barely sparing her a glance. They were clearly straining with the effort it took to hold up the couch, and Katya realized they were waiting for the elevator.
How do they think they're going to get it in there!?
“Sorry,” she said, tapping one of the big men on the shoulder. “But I think someone blocked the door. I was waiting for it for a while on the fifth floor, but it never came down.”
“Oh yeah, that's Barry,” the guy replied.
“Barry?”
“He's unloading the buffet table. It's a bitch to move, with that entire marble top. We told him to wait. He's probably having trouble getting it unwedged,” the guy explained, as if Katya not only knew Barry, but knew all about the marble topped buffet table.
“Unwedged?” she asked.
“Yeah. It didn't really fit, we had to swing it in at an angle, tilt it up on its end. I tell ya, I didn't think the elevator was gonna move, that sonnuva bitch was so heavy.”
Katya glanced up as the elevator made a dinging sound. Barry must have gotten the table out, because the doors in front of her slid open. The couch started moving, but when it became even more obvious that the behemoth wouldn't fit, the guys started going about uncoupling the sectional pieces.
She was confused. A lovely elderly Korean couple lived in the penthouse on the top floor. They owned a jewelry store down by the waterfront where Mr. Han was a gemologist. They'd somewhat adopted Katya and Tori as their grandchildren, since their real ones lived in New York. Katya had spent a fair amount of time at their place, helping Mrs. Han bake, eating dinner with them, or taking down their trash when she went to take her own.
So she knew that their apartment was decorated in mostly dark woods, with high end vintage sofas and arm chairs. Lots of mid-century pieces. Not large sectionals like the one in front of her.
Were they completely redecorating? The huge sofa that was now being dismantled was definitely super modern. Over-stuffed and done in a linen colored upholstery that was so soft, she wondered if it was a kind of chenille. She reached out and ran her hand across the top cushions. They felt comfortable and luxurious. Expensive.
She shivered and glanced at the front of the building. There was a regular push door on the right, and then a super large revolving door in the center, with only one divider. Through them, she could see the end of a large moving van and more furniture. A huge chair that matched the couch. A large credenza and a sideboard, both in matching gray wood. Thick wood, at that – heavy pieces. She assumed Barry's marble topped buffet was made out of a similar material. Expensive. She looked back down at the couch.
“The Hans ordered all this?” she asked, watching as an end piece of the couch was finally disconnected and dragged into the waiting elevator.
“Who?”
“The Hans, the people whose apartment you're moving all this into,” she told the moving guy.
“Look, lady, I don't know no Hans, I just know the guy who booked this gig offered us two hundred extra bucks each if we get it all unloaded in an hour, so unless you're gonna help, I'd appreciate it if you'd move your fine ass outta the way,” he grunted, then the doors slid shut.
Katya didn't care about his sexist undertones. Her mouth fell open and she was sure her jaw was brushing the ground. Out the corner of her eye, she saw the other moving man start to head for the exit. Presumably to get more furniture. Two hundred bucks was two hundred bucks, after all.
“... the guy who booked this gig ...”
What kind of guy bought high end furniture and then offered a ridiculous bonus to his moving men?
“Hey,” she called out, moving to step around the couch. “What guy is your friend talking -”
Again, she wasn't paying attention. Bad habit she had. She walked into someone, shoulder checking him hard enough to send her off balance. She bumped up against the corner piece before catching her balance.
“I'm assuming he was referring to me.”
Katya couldn't lift her eyes. If she did, it would be real. And it couldn't be real. Dealing with Liam was hard enough, but at least he was soft. Like a blanket, he wrapped around her and enveloped her. It was easy to forget he could hurt her.
With Wulfric Stone, though, it was impossible to forget. He was carved out of ice and had razor sharp edges. He'd cut her to pieces once already. If she slipped again, he'd slice her right in half.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered, still staring out the front door. Moving man number two was struggling with the large chair outside. She watched him for a second, then felt a finger under her chin. Forcing her to turn and face forward. A pair of blue eyes froze her in place.
“You don't seem happy to see me,” Wulf informed her.
“Probably because I'm not. Why are you delivering all this stuff to the Hans?” she asked.
“I'm not delivering it to them.”
“Then why are you sending it up to their apartment?”
“It's not their apartment anymore.”
“What? Yes it is, they've lived there forever, I was just ...”
Katya's voice fell away as a light bulb went off over her head.
“They haven't lived there since last night, since about seven o'clock,” Wulf told her.
Seven o'clock. Right about when she'd been getting off a train to go to the Eros speed dating party.
“So what, you evicted them!?” she was aghast. He rolled his eyes.
“Please. You always favor the dramatic. They're currently settling into a new home in a four story Victorian, three blocks from their store.”
“How did you manage that?”
“Easy, I own the building and I offered it at half the rent they were paying here. They all but begged me to let them move in,” he explained. Katya held up her hands.
“So let me get this straight. You own a four story Victorian down near the water, that you offered to the Hans at half the price of their old place, just so you could move in, presumably to make my life hell?” she double checked.
“Something like that.”
“Doesn't anyone know what the definition of stalking is!?” she shouted, her voice echoing in the small lobby.
Wulf went to respond, then paused when his cell phone started ringing. He held up a finger and checked the screen. Katya was about to grab it and throw it into the revolving door, but then he shocked her by locking the device and sliding it into his pocket.
“You did this to yourself,” he told her. “I've left you messages. Many times. I even sent you flowers.”
“Your secretary sent me flowers.”
“Ayumi is more than a secretary, and I assure you, she checked with me to sign off on the final decision.”
“You're amazing.”
“Thank you.”
“It wasn't meant as a compliment.”
“I'm choosing to take it as one, anyway.”