Page 4 of Firecracker

“Not quite all your worldly possessions. The stuff you shipped is in the apartment.”

“Oh, good.”

They each took one suitcase and started toward the exit to the parking garage. Arden’s shoulders were burning by the time they arrived at his vehicle, a gleaming new Jeep. “Nice ride.”

“Thanks.” Despite his earlier complaints, he lifted her heavy suitcases into the back of the Jeep with ease and she shoved her carry-on in there too. Soon they were zipping along I-90. She watched familiar scenery slide by as Jamie talked about his business and baffled her with techy bullshit.

When they exited and Jamie eventually turned onto North Hudson, she gazed around her new neighborhood, smiling. Mature trees lined the narrow street and provided leafy green shade to the late nineteenth century stone and brick row houses, and at the base of the trees, wrought iron fences surrounded beds full of ivy and begonias. Jamie parked in front of a red brick building with ivy climbing up and around the arched windows and a pretty green courtyard in front. A wrought iron fence edged the courtyard, bordered by green shrubs on each side. Jamie unlocked the gate and as they walked up the sidewalk, she eyed the neatly trimmed patch of grass, the entrance with its substantial wooden door, and above it the nameTHE triumphcarved into stone.

“Did you plant that?” She gestured at a big black pot on the front steps overflowing with bright red and orange impatiens, lime green sweet potato vines, and multicolored coleus.

“Nah. Mila did.”

“Figures. It’s nice.”

He laughed.

Arden had yet to meet Mila, though she’d heard about her. Mila and Jamie had gone to college together, and now she lived with him. Well, notwithhim, notthatway. But in the same building. Arden had teased Jamie once about Mila being his girlfriend, and he’d been horrified. “Christ no!” He’d waved his hands like an umpire calling someone safe on base. “We’re friends. That’s all.”

Apparently it was, because Jamie was constantly out with women, and Mila had a boyfriend.

As they entered, Arden took stock of the building, having never been there. The hardwood floors had been beautifully refinished, as well as the tall baseboards. She admired the original stained glass windows, the ornate ceiling medallion and crystal chandelier hanging above, and elegant sconces on the walls now fitted with electric lights. Mahogany doors on either side of the hall wore big brass numbers1and2, and a grand mahogany staircase climbed to the second floor.

“Wow, this is gorgeous, Jamie.”

“Thanks. The place needed a lot of work, so I got a good deal, but it’s coming along.”

She could only imagine how much a building like this—in this neighborhood—cost, even if it did need work. She set a hand on the big carved newel post. “Up?”

“Yeah. Leave that case, I’ll come back and get it.”

The door of apartment two swung open and a woman popped out into the hall. “Hiiiii! You must be Arden!”

Arden smiled tentatively. “And you must be Mila.”

“Yes! I’m so happy to meet you! It’s going to be awesome to have another woman in the building!”

Mila was stunning…shiny dark hair cut in one of those bobs that was short in the back and longer at the front, curving around her perfect oval face. The tilted-up corners of her eyes gave her a mischievous look. Her full lips and high cheekbones had Arden blinking in awe of her beauty.

And her enthusiastic greeting was…nice. Arden’s smile widened. “Yeah, you don’t want to be outnumbered.”

“Hell no. The testosterone around here sometimes is suffocating. And annoying.” But she grinned. “Welcome back to Chicago.”

“Thank you.” Mila obviously knew her story, but there was no awkwardness as she stepped forward to hug her.

“You’ve been through a rough time,” Mila said, her tone gentler. “So we’re going to have some fun.”

Dammit, tears stung Arden’s eyes again. She didn’t want pity, but someone being nice to her was enough to make her cry. “I’d like to have some fun.”

“We’ll get you settled in.” Mila reached for a suitcase.

“You can’t carry that upstairs,” Jamie told her.

She frowned. “Yes, I can. I’ve been working out.”

He snorted. “With five-pound weights.”

She bugged her eyes out at him. “I’m up to eight pounds now.” She raised one slender arm and flexed, and tiny biceps appeared.

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