Page 21 of Only Lovers in the Building

After dinner, dessert, and one last tour around the room—at Lily’s insistence—to thank all the right people, she and Ben ducked

out. Having beat the crowds, they easily caught an elevator.

Ben shoved his prepared remarks into his jacket pocket. “Lily, you made this night infinitely more pleasurable. I can’t thank

you enough.”

“You’re welcome.” Lily stumbled back and leaned against the paneled wall. Socializing was a competitive sport. Like any athlete

who’d left it all on the field, she was ready to drop.

He stepped closer. “Why so far away? I won’t kiss you again, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Again?” she asked. “If you mean our first elevator kiss, you don’t get to claim a kiss you didn’t give.”

“A kiss is shared, Lily,” he said. “It’s not a territory. No one person gets to claim it.”

Suddenly, it got very hot and steamy in the elevator. Lily’s face was still hot when the valet attendant brought their car

around.

Lily slipped into the low passenger seat and winced. The corset bodice of her dress dug into her ribs.

Ben took the wheel. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“It’s the dress,” she answered. “I think I’ll sell it online. I’m done with it.”

The midi-length crepe cocktail dress wasn’t the vibe for the summer.

“Too bad. You look good in it.”

“Oh, I know,” she said with a grin. “I quit my job in this dress.”

He put the car in gear with a low whistle. “I would’ve loved to see that. Paint me a picture. How did it go down?”

Lily considered how to answer his question without dragging Darren into it. Corporate lawyer quits jobs after seeing ex’s wedding pics on Instagram. There was no way to admit to that without coming across as a flake, or flakier than she already did.

“We flew to Miami for our yearly retreat.”

“What does a corporate retreat entail?” he asked. “Group therapy? Trust exercises?”

“A whole lot of drinking and endless rounds of golf,” Lily said. “Family isn’t invited, so it’s the perfect excuse to get

away from husbands, wives, and significant others.”

“Sounds right. Then what happened?”

“It was the night of the big banquet. Kendal Hill, president and CEO, rises to give the toast. Generally, this is when he

announces big shifts in trajectory, expansions, promotions, and the like. This year, we acquired a major asset. I worked hard

on those negotiations and delivered more than was asked for. I got a bonus, but no recognition. Ken gave full credit to Gus

Porter, praising his hard work and hinting at a future promotion.”

“Who’s Gus?” Ben asked.

“A new attorney, legendary negotiator,” Lily replied. “They’d poached him from a rival and promised him the moon. I get that’s

how the game is played, but he didn’t work on this deal. He showed up at a few meetings, shook a few hands, that’s it!”

“Lily, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“How is that okay?”

“It happens more often than you’d think,” she said. “Men steal credit for women’s work all the time. It’s just a thing they

do.”

“It pisses me off. You shouldn’t have to put up with that.”

“I didn’t,” she said. “I got up and left. Made quite a scene, too.”

“Did you push back your chair, toss your napkin, knock over a glass of wine?”

“I took my wine with me,” she replied. “It was damn good, and I wasn’t going to waste it! But I slammed the door behind me.”

“Did anyone come after you?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t know,” Lily said. “The banquet hall was on the same floor as the hotel spa, so I hid there. I traded this dress

for a robe, locked myself in the sauna, and cried.”

“Lily...”

“Not gonna lie, I panicked,” she admitted. “While I turned into a prune in the sauna, I thought of a thousand ways to undo

what I’d just done. The best I could come up with was a sudden allergy attack.”

“Blame it on a bad oyster,” he said. “It works every time.”

“In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to grovel for a job I secretly hated. I’d been unhappy for so long. I was ready for a

change. So in the morning, I packed my bag, sent Ken an email, and left for the airport.”

“But you’re still here,” Ben said. “You didn’t fly home. What made you stay?”

“I didn’t want to face my family,” she said. “I needed time to clear my head. And I was exhausted. Believe it or not, the

retreat had drained me. Rubbing elbows is work. Making yourself seen by senior management is work. Small talk is tedious and

tiresome.”

“I’d rather write a grant proposal than make small talk,” Ben said.

“But if you turn down too many invitations, you’re labeled a recluse.

In fact, any writer who doesn’t socialize is a recluse.

Guess what that gets you? More attention.

” He loosened the knot of his tie. “Wait. How did I make this about me?”

She rolled her eyes. “Typical man!”

“All right, I’ll take that,” he said. “So you’re riding to the airport. It’s a beautiful Miami day. What goes through your

mind?”

“I’m thinking... what’s the rush? You know? All that’s waiting for me is my lovely plant baby.”

“What kind?”

“A Monstera.”

“Do you have a photo?”

“Do I have a photo? Ha!”

She had a folder full of photos of her little monster at various stages of development. When they pulled up to a traffic light,

Lily showed him her favorite shot of the houseplant basking in sunlight. At the time, it was positioned under the living room

window, which happened to be her kitchen window. Her apartment was that small.

“Pretty,” he said. “Will it survive without you? You’ve been away for more than two weeks now.”

“I’ve asked my mom to check in on her.” They rode the rest of the way in comfortable silence. At the building, Ben walked

her to her door, which was no big deal considering it was directly across from his.

Determined to play it cool, she took a breezy tone and said, “Thanks for a lovely—”

It was tough playing it cool with trembling hands. Her little satin clutch slipped out of her grip. Her keys, lipstick, breath

mints, and money clip scattered across the floor. Ben gathered everything and dropped it all into her purse, except the keys.

He first unlocked her door and then placed them in the palm of her hand.

Suddenly, there was nothing but their breath and a heady si lence between them.

At the end of the hall, static noise crackled from a faulty Art Deco sconce.

Lily was desperate to kiss him, but she wouldn’t.

If he wanted her, he’d have to make the move.

She’d made a fool of herself once—never again!

She was so caught in these thoughts that when Ben pressed his mouth to hers, she was completely caught off guard.

The unexpected kiss was scorching hot, lighting a fuse deep inside her, setting her soul on fire.

Despite having opened her door, they ended up stumbling into his apartment. Kissing madly, hands roaming each other’s bodies,

they made their way to the bed. Ben pulled her onto his lap. She took his face in her hands, looking for assurances in his

heated gaze. Are we really going to do this?

He kissed her again. It seemed the answer was yes .

As she worked off his jacket, his phone slipped out of the pocket, landing face up on the bed. It lit up suddenly with a text

message. The words PODCAST , I’M SERIOUS , and CALL ME leaped at her.

“Oh my God!” she cried.

“What’s wrong?” Ben asked.

He’d pulled the pin out of her hair and rushed his fingers through her curls with urgency, as if he’d been waiting to do it

all night.

“You have a text message. Read it.”

Ben pounced on his phone, scanned the message, and laughed. “It’s just Allison,” he said. “Thank God. For a second I thought

it was...”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence. Lily slipped off his lap and onto the bed beside him. The memory of his ex-girlfriend

knocking on his door had knocked sense into her. After Bella had returned his things, had they gone no-contact? Or did they

still exchange the odd text message after midnight, as recent exes are wont to do?

Ben scanned the message and dismissed it, tossing his phone aside.

Lily cleared her throat. “She mentioned a podcast.”

“She’s not serious,” he said.

“It’s in all caps! Of course she’s serious.”

“No way,” Ben insisted. “Allison’s a major snob when it comes to literature.”

“She didn’t come across that way to me. She was the only one who supported our romance-reading.”

“For the intellectual upper hand,” Ben said. “Everyone was against it, so she had to be for it.”

“You’re clearly against it.”

He paused. “Is this something you’d be interested in?”

“No, of course not.”

“Lily, you’re a lot of things, but not a good liar.”

“I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

“I know Allison,” he said. “It’s probably the champagne talking. She might regret sending the text in the morning.”

Unfortunately, regretting decisions in the morning was a thing Lily knew all too well. If anything, Alison’s interest proved

that she and Ben made a good team. They didn’t have to go pro with a podcast, but they could keep things professional. She

got up and collected her bag, keys, and hairpin. “Good night,” she said. “I think we’ve all had a little too much champagne.”

Ben looked up at her. A current of understanding passed between them. They had a plan, a good one, to rest and heal over the

summer, not to overheat, crash out, and burn. Now they had to stick with it.

“When will I see you again?” he asked.

“Tomorrow morning, obviously,” she replied. “To wrap up our next review.”

“All right,” he said. “Tomorrow night I’m covering for Roxanna. Will you come up for a drink?”

“I will.”

“Good. I’ll make you a martini.”

“Make it extra dirty.”

“Anything you like.”

With that, he walked her out. Lily crossed the hall while he waited at the threshold of his apartment for her to supposedly

make it home safely.

“I made it!” she announced.

“One more thing,” he called out before she closed her door.

“Yes?”

“When you enter this last kiss into the record, make sure I get full credit.”

BOOKTAP @LegalLyon in collaboration with @Ben_Romero

Spring Fever , by Ella Green

Couple: Celine and Clive

Trope: enemies to lovers

REVIEW: Celine Campbell, 31, chief of staff of a powerful US senator, falls for Clive Brown, 39, a washed-up reporter out

to make a name for himself. Clive unearths the long-buried secrets of Celine’s boss. The published story reveals corruption

on a scale that Celine could not have imagined and paints her as either complicit or clueless. When the senator resigns, Celine

loses her job and her reputation. Regretful, Clive offers to write a puff piece on her for a leading magazine. He shadows

her around for two weeks in March. Their attraction blooms with the first cherry blossoms.

Lily’s Rating: 3 stars

Clive sucks as a reporter and sucks even harder as a potential life partner.

After profiting off Celine’s misery, he circles back—like the vulture he is—to pick on the ruins of her career.

Our girl Celine is destined to be roadkill, left on the side of the road to rot, when Clive runs her over in a fevered rush to land another scoop.

Ben’s Rating: 2.5 stars

Spring Fever is a thinly veiled political thriller with a wild sex scene tossed in at the halfway mark to spice things up. However, by

the end of this sluggish saga, I lost my faith in America and my interest in this couple. I question Clive’s integrity and

Celine’s intelligence. It might’ve been best if these two had never met.