Page 14 of Only Lovers in the Building

I mind the gap very much.

Come over. Let’s talk.

—Ben

One of life’s joys was coming home to a note taped to your door with the potential of taking your night in a whole new direction.

This note would join the first one he’d written her, in the top drawer of her nightstand. For the moment, it went into her

purse. Giddy, she knocked on her neighbor’s door.

Ben opened right away. With his five-o’clock shadow and unkempt hair, he looked scruffy—just as she liked. “I’m not jealous,”

he said, taking her in—her midnight-blue dress, the same one she’d worn to the corporate retreat’s welcome reception. “I just

need to know who you’re stepping out on me with.”

He was teasing in his flirty way, but Lily struggled to hide her very real jealousy of the infamous—in her mind only—Belle/Bella.

“You should be jealous,” she said. “I had a great night with Kylie from the third floor and Noah from the tenth.”

“There are twenty-one floors,” he said. “Are you going to work your way through each one? Is that your strategy?”

“What’s your strategy? They say you keep to yourself.”

“Not true. I have my favorites. Have you met Cecily Joy on the seventeenth floor, or Rachel Stark on the twentieth?”

“I didn’t take you for a social climber. Do you only talk to the girls on the top floors?”

“Golden girls,” he said. “No one under retirement age.”

“Ah... If you’re looking for a sugar mama, Ben, just say!” Lily teased. “I won’t judge.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I’ve got news,” Lily said. “Our book club is open to everyone, no matter which floor they’re on. Kylie, Noah, and Roxanna

are full members now.”

“That’s okay,” he said, though his expression clouded. “But only if we still get to do this.”

If by this he meant mornings by the pool and late-night meetings, just the two of them, with the stated purpose to shred a novel apart,

the answer was yes. Every club had a managing board, and that’s what they were.

“Of course.”

“Good,” he said. “Because I need to talk about that book now, so I can move on with my life. I can’t wait until you convene

a panel.”

“I’ll take you out of your misery,” she said. “Give me a second to grab my copy and I’ll be right back.”

“The door is open. Just come in.”

A quick whirl at her place and she was back, in monogrammed slippers lifted from a hotel in Paris, her copy of Blurred Lines , and a box of mint tea.

When she let herself into his place, Lily was struck, once again, by how homey it felt.

Her eyes traveled from the crammed bookcase to the desk stacked high with paperbacks, the wire bin holding a collection of laptops from different eras that he ought to recycle, and the frayed copies of The New Yorker magazine scattered on the dinner table.

The soft light from the lamps cast a warm glow on all of this. She made a mental

note to change her stark-white bulbs immediately.

Ben was in the kitchen, wiping down the counter as she had seen him do at the bar. Occupational habit, no doubt.

She handed over the box of tea. “If you heat a cup of water and a tea bag in the microwave, I’ll have this.”

“You’ve heard of a kettle, right?” he asked.

“Who has one of those?” she replied. “I mean in real life, not on Pinterest.”

He pointed to a well-loved copper kettle sitting on the stovetop. Lily tossed her hands up. “I give up! You win!”

“You don’t take care of yourself,” he said.

Lily dropped onto the couch. “Why should I when you’re so willing to pick up the slack?”

“Too willing,” he muttered.

“Would you consider moving to New York with me?” Lily asked. “I’ll email my landlord to check for vacancies on my floor. I

need you close.”

“There’s a reason we met here, and not in New York,” he said. “Frigid winters.”

He filled the kettle and placed it on a burner. “Let’s get into that age gap, Lily.”

“What’s your issue with it?” she asked. “You think they went too far?”

“They didn’t go far enough,” he said. “Justine is eight years older than Mike. That’s no big deal. Men date younger women

every day.”

“I agree,” Lily said. “The only scandal here is that the woman was older than her partner. The issue feels dated.”

“Mike killed me,” Ben said. “He was young, dumb, broke, and so fucking cocky. No notes there—that’s any guy at twenty-three.”

“Justine is only thirty-one. Why did she have to be so insecure? That scene when she checks her legs for cellulite before

they have sex broke me. Like, what?”

“They fought about money all the damn time. Makes me think the wage gap was the real problem.”

“She outearned him by a lot, and I don’t have to tell you that men are fragile.”

“Why couldn’t she let him pay for the deep-dish pizza?”

“He’d paid for the cab from O’Hare!”

“It was just pizza, Lily!”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you buy me pizza... tomorrow night... for dinner.”

“I appreciate it.”

The kettle started to gurgle and whistle. Ben dropped a tea bag in a cup and filled it with the boiling water. He brought

it to her with the usual assortment of sugar packets.

“Thanks,” she said. “I’m adding sugar to our shopping list. You won’t have to stuff your pockets anymore.”

“I get them on campus, but that’ll stop soon. The summer term is nearly over. I still have to meet with students, but once

I turn in my grades, I’m free.”

Why did she love the sound of that? His free time wasn’t hers to take. He likely had plans. Perhaps he’d join Frederico Costa

on the Amalfi Coast.

“Will you travel?” She kept her tone light, conversational, even though her happiness and hope for the immediate future was

riding on his answer.

Ben grabbed an iPad off his desk and joined her on the couch. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “Who would make your morning

coffee?”

“And my filthy martinis?”

“Leave it all to me. I’m devoted to you until Labor Day.”

“Actually, August 31. I’ll be long gone before Labor Day. There’s nothing like autumn in New York.” Lily set the mug down on the low coffee table. “But whatever. I’m fine either way. It’s your life.”

“August 31. I’ll mark my calendar.”

His tone was flat without its ring of flirtatiousness. Lily tried not to read too much into it and returned to the book discussion.

“I think we’ve skipped over one huge point. Justine is a highly successful Black woman from a wealthy family. Mike is...

Mike.”

“So you agree it’s not about age.”

“Yup.”

“All right. Are we ready? Let’s get to it.”

BOOK REVIEW

BOOKTAP @LegalLyon in collaboration with @Ben_Romero

BLURRED LINES , by Kayla Clark

Couple: Justine and Mike

Trope: age gap, older woman/younger man

Review: The plot relies heavily on the age difference of the couple when, really, the difference in their tax brackets is

the problem. In this interracial romance, Justine is the daughter of a famous Black artist and successful gallery owner. She

is accustomed to the finer things, namely wine, taxis, trips, and Uber Eats. Mike is charismatic, Caucasian, and cocky. He

is a basement-apartment dweller, surviving on a waiter’s salary while working the Windy City’s improv circuit. Mostly, they

can’t seem to agree on who should pick up the check. They fight. They fuck. A vicious cycle, but a fun read.

Lily’s Rating: 3.5 stars

Ben’s Rating: 3 stars

P.S.: We loved the setting. Chicago comes alive in this novel. Although we think this couple doesn’t stand a chance in the long run, the steamy afternoons in the chilly basement apartment will live rent-free in our minds forever.

The next morning, Lily woke up to the exciting news that their joint review had gone viral. Unfortunately, the news was delivered

by her father, which dampened the excitement a bit. Her phone rang at seven sharp. She could just picture her father at the

breakfast table with the iPad that had replaced the morning paper.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m trying to reach my ungrateful daughter.”

Her father still had the Caribbean lilt to his voice that made even his admonishments sound lyrical.

“Good morning, Dad. How’s Mom?”

“Her blood pressure is under control. The new medication is working. But that’s not why I called.”

“What is it, then?”

“Your silly romance post is everywhere!”

Lily shot upright. “What? I thought I block—”

“You thought you blocked me?” he interrupted. “Aren’t you ashamed? I’m your father!”

“You are,” Lily said. “I love and respect you, but BookTap is my playground. I’m setting healthy boundaries.”

“Is that why you left your job? Are you setting boundaries with your employer, too?”

“I’m on sabbatical,” she insisted. “How do you even know about my posts?”

“Cynthia sent it my way with a smiley-face emoji, as if there was anything to smile about. She’s under the impression you’ve

found a boyfriend. A man named Romeo.”

Cynthia was her father’s long-suffering assistant who’d married off her two daughters and pinned her hopes on Lily.

“His name is Ben Romero , and he’s not my boyfriend. He’s my new neighbor.”

“It looks to me that he’s a bright young man,” her father said grudgingly. “Is everyone in Miami just wasting away in the

sun?”

Lily snapped: it was far too early for this. “Dad, I get that my choices and my interests and my hobbies and my career path

are deeply unserious and troubling to you. I get it! But this routine is getting old. There’s nothing you can do about it.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to reserve my place in the sun. Say hi to Mom. Tell her I love her, and we’ll talk soon.”

Lily ended the call and hopped on BookTap. If Cynthia had seen their post, then it had to have made the rounds. She was right.

Over two hundred and fifty thousand impressions on a silly little book post! Thousands of comments! Unheard of!

U 2 are 2 much!

The dynamic duo I didn’t know I needed!

Ben Romero Romance wasn’t on my bingo card. Here for it!

More!! Give us more!!!

This is the chemistry that was missing from the story.

I need visuals. Could this be a YouTube series?

Their first post had gone viral! She couldn’t wait to share the news with her Romeo.