Page 3 of Confessions of the Funny Fat Friend

He chuckled. “It’s that obvious? I’m from the Fort Worth area.”

“It’s subtle,” I replied. Cute, I didn’t add. “I thought you Texans weren’t fans of California.”

He laughed. “You can get us to come here from time to time—if the price is right.”

I smiled, stopping in front of Unit C. “This is the building you’ll be in. There’s a laundromat downstairs with a few coin-operated washers and dryers. Your apartment’s on the third floor, so we have a bit of a climb. But it is nice and quiet up there, and you have an amazing view of the park from the balcony off your living room.”

Usually people weren’t so happy about all the stairs, but he rubbed his hands together and said, “Can’t wait to see it.”

As we hoofed it up the flights, him with ease and me trying not to breathe hard and embarrass myself, I wondered why he was staying here at all. He had to be making hundreds of thousands of dollars a year, and this place definitely wasn’t the best he could afford. But I’d already been rude enough for one day, so I didn’t pry.

We reached unit 303, and I said, “This is it. Why don’t you test the keys?”

He leaned forward, slipping the key into the lock and turning. It opened easily, and he walked in, examining the two-bedroom unit. “It’s nice,” he said, setting down his duffel bag beside the couch.

He was full of surprises. “I keep trying to talk corporate into replacing the carpets,” I admitted, “but they’ve been freshly cleaned by a great local company. Most units aren’t furnished, but they gave me a small budget and I personally picked out some pieces for you so you’ll be comfortable while you’re here. If you get situated and realize you don’t have something you need, give me a call. I’ll make sure to get it for you right away.”

He turned from his examination of the apartment and laid his eyes on me. They were captivating, a mix of green and gold and brown that I’m sure my mother would have loved to paint. “That’s real nice of you, Hen.”

God, could he stop saying my name so my heart would slow down?

“Of course,” I said, straightening my blouse. I found myself lost without something to do with my hands. “I’ll let you get settled in.”

I turned to leave his apartment, but he said, “Wait up.”

Standing in the hallway, I faced him again. “Did I miss something?”

“Your number,” he said with a smooth smile. My heart skipped a beat, and I was about to say something stupid before he added, “In case I need anything?”

“Oh, right.” Of course he wanted my number for business, not for any other reason. I reached into my purse hanging from my shoulder. I always kept some business cards with my cell number written on the back, just in case. “This is the office number, but you can use my cell on the back if I’m not in there. My office hours are eight to five, Monday through Friday.”

“Great. And we’re meeting at the building site Monday at four,” he confirmed.

I nodded. “That’s Pacific time. In case your phone isn’t set to change time zones automatically.”

“Good thinking,” he said, and damn, why did that compliment have my cheeks all flushed? Good thing my dark skin hid things like that. I could always tell when my white friends were embarrassed just by the color of their cheeks.

“Well, I’ll let you get settled in,” I said again, turning and walking away.

“See you Monday,” he replied.

I walked down the stairs, trying my damnedest not to trip. That was the last thing I needed to do, embarrass myself yet again in front of this person I’d be working so closely with for the next several months. I needed this experience to go off without a hitch. If all went well, Janessa had already hinted I could be traveling around the country, managing new builds for Blue Bird, Inc.Me, with my little associate degree that everyone said would never be enough.

I bit my lip, worried if I’d made a good impression. I’d been a little harsh at first. And there was no time like the present to make things better.

On the second landing, I turned myself around and marched back up the stairs, knocking on Tyler Griffen’s door.

2

Tyler

I was about to sit down in front of the TV when a knock sounded on my door. After a long flight to yet another place where I knew no one, I’d planned to order takeout, zone out with a show I’d seen a million times before, and fall asleep. But when I opened the door and saw Hen there, my mind went crazy, just like when I’d first seen her moments ago.

She had these sharp eyes that cut straight to the point like she did with her words. Her relaxed, raven toned hair curled past her shoulders and drew my attention down to luscious curves and legs that went on for miles. I knew I couldn’t date her—I never dated anyone when I was on location. It would be unprofessional, not to mention futile with me leaving once the project was done—but damn was she something to look at.

“Is there something I forgot?” I asked.

“I was wondering...” She hesitated, chewing on her lip, and I had to force myself to look away from her mouth “Have you eaten yet? I would feel bad leaving you here and not showing you around a little bit. There are a few fast food places nearby, a Chinese place I love down the road, and if you’re missing home, I think there’s a Texas Roadhouse a few blocks past that.”

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