What He Could Not Buy

Hannah did not invite Nathan into her apartment.

He liked that more than he should have.

The car stopped outside a narrow brick building in Logan Square with a broken porch light and three bicycles chained to the railing. She opened the door before the driver could.

Nathan stepped out after her.

“You don’t have to walk me to the door,” she said.

“I know.”

“Then why are you?”

“Because the photograph was taken before you sat down. Whoever sent it knew who you were.”

Hannah’s hand tightened around her tote. “You think I was followed.”

“I think someone wanted me to understand they could identify you.”

“That is not the same thing.”

“No. It is worse.”

She studied him beneath the weak porch light. “And your solution is what? Put a man outside my building?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Hannah.”

“No. You do not get to turn my street into an extension of your security detail.”

“What if the threat is real?”

“Then tell me the truth and let me make decisions.”

Nathan looked toward Mateo, who had remained by the sedan.

Hannah noticed. “Do not ask him to decide for me either.”

“I was going to ask whether he can monitor the block without being visible.”

“That is still monitoring the block.”

“Yes.”

She exhaled. “You are exhausting.”

“So I have been told.”

“By both wives?”

Nathan’s gaze sharpened.

Hannah winced. “That was rude.”

“It was accurate.”

She looked at him for another second. “One car at the end of the block. No one inside the building. No one follows me into work. If anything changes, you tell me.”

Nathan nodded.

“That was suspiciously easy.”

“I am learning.”

“Do not get proud. You’re on lesson one.”

The next morning, Nathan canceled three meetings and drove to Bridge House.

He did not tell Hannah.

When he stepped through the front doors, she was standing on a chair taping a hand-lettered poster to a wall.

She looked down at him.

“You lasted fourteen hours.”

Nathan glanced at the sign.

FREE GED PREP - TUESDAYS AND THURSDAYS.

“I came to see where you work.”

“You came to inspect the civilian environment.”

“That too.”

Bridge House occupied an old three-story building wedged between a laundromat and a shuttered pharmacy. The radiator hissed. The floor tiles had been repaired in mismatched squares. Children’s drawings covered one wall beneath a banner that read EVERYONE GETS A SECOND CHANCE.

A boy of about ten walked past Nathan, stopped, and stared at his coat.

“Are you a funeral director?”

Hannah bit her lip.

Nathan looked at his black suit. “No.”

“You dress like one.”

The boy continued down the hallway.

Hannah climbed down. “That was Malik. He has no survival instinct.”

“I noticed.”

A gray-haired woman approached carrying folders. “Hannah, the landlord called again.”

Hannah’s expression changed.

“Mrs. Alvarez, this is Nathan.”

The woman looked at him, then at the two men waiting outside the glass doors.

“Nathan what?”

“Mercer.”

Her face went still.

Nathan knew that reaction.

He did not like seeing it here.

“Mr. Mercer,” Mrs. Alvarez said carefully.

“Just Nathan.”

“No offense, but men with security details rarely come here to volunteer for literacy hour.”

Hannah folded her arms. “He is observing.”

“I have been accused of worse.”

Mrs. Alvarez gave him a long look. “We may not be here much longer to observe.”

Hannah turned. “What did the landlord say?”

“The building has been sold.”

“What?”

“Closing went through yesterday. We have ninety days.”

Hannah took the folder from her. “Sold to who?”

“Lakefront Urban Partners.”

Nathan’s body went still.

Hannah noticed immediately. “You know them.”

“No.”

“That was not a no face.”

Nathan took the notice.

Lakefront Urban Partners, LLC.

He had seen the name once before, buried three layers deep in a development packet brought to one of his legitimate holding companies.

“Call Rachel,” he told Mateo through the open doorway.

Hannah’s voice sharpened. “Why?”

Nathan handed the notice back.

“Because six months ago, one of my companies was asked to provide freight access and security consulting for a redevelopment project using that shell.”

Mrs. Alvarez stared at him.

Hannah looked as though he had struck her.

“Your company?”

“I did not know Bridge House was involved.”

“But you knew about the project.”

“I saw the name.”

“You said you came here because of me.”

“I did.”

“Did you know this building was being sold before you walked in?”

“No.”

She searched his face.

Nathan let her.

A little girl ran past carrying three picture books, laughing as another child chased her.

Hannah looked around the room.

“Ninety-two kids,” she said softly. “Thirty-one adults in literacy classes. Seventeen people in job training. Three mothers using the computer room every morning because they don’t have internet at home.”

“I heard you yesterday.”

“No. You heard numbers.”

Her eyes returned to him.

“This is what the numbers look like.”

Nathan felt the rebuke land exactly where she intended.

His phone rang.

Rachel.

He answered. “Tell me everything you know about Lakefront Urban Partners.”

His sister was silent for a beat.

Then she said, “Why?”

“Because they just bought Bridge House.”

Another silence.