Page 33 of My UnTrue Love
Clementine’s forehead compressed. Was she doing this all wrong? Did other muses have so much trouble getting artists to admit they were artists? Was she too ambitious in targeting people who didn’t want to be inspired?
She started knocking again, refusing to give up on someone who obviously needed more encouragement.
“Where is he?” A naga with a handlebar mustache came slithering up the steps and onto the wooden walkway. The top part of his body was a potbellied, human torso. The bottom half was a long coil of diamond-patterned serpent. “I thought I heard the little bastard’s voice.”
Clementine turned to frown at the snake-man. “I was just…”
He cut her off. “You Luke’s girlfriend? Because he owes me rent.” Cold eyes ran all over her body, centering in on her breasts. “Maybe he’s been spending all his money on you, huh?”
Clem made a face. This must be “Woody the scumbag landlord” Bill didn’t want her talking to alone. Wonderful. She crossed her arms over her chest to hide his view. “I’m not Luke’s girlfriend. I didn’t even know his namewasLuke.”
“Luke Widowmaker. Or Widowmaker Luke, I suppose.” He mocked the coyotes’ preferred naming order in a sing-song voice. “Weird damn coyote customs. Shouldn’t be allowed.”
“Why not?” Bill had explained coyote naming traditions to her and they were fairly simple. The children kept their mother’s name and their last name was listed first. Just two tiny rules! “I think we should all make an effort to respect other species. Coyotes have a right to…”
Woody talked right over her. “Whatever he calls himself, you’ll be seeing his pictures on a wanted poster one day. Kid’s a punk.” He glided towards the apartment door. “So, is he in there?” He hammered a fist against the wood, the blows vibrating through the whole building. “You in there, boy?”
“I just knocked and he’s not answering.” Clem volunteered, automatically trying to protect Luke.
A landlord needed to collect rent, in order to pay his own bills. She got that. But Woody already seemed like a bully, and she’d only known him for thirty seconds.
“He’s ignoring you, probably.” Woody muttered, trying to peer through the tightly drawn curtains and into the apartment.
“He might not be home.” Clem argued.
Not a lie. Lukemighthave climbed out a window. Hemighthave been abducted by aliens, at just this very moment. Not likely, but theoretically possible.
Woody scowled. “The scrawny prick’s been dodging me for weeks. It won’t do him any good, though. No one evades Woody Shakes forever!” He raised his voice for that last part, like he suspected Luke might be listening. “He still owes me for last month’s rent and this month’s is past due. If I don’t getallmy money by Tuesday, he’s out on his ass!”
“He’s just a kid.”
“He’s a kid who’s about to be homeless.” Woody arched a protruding brow in her direction. “Unlessyou’dlike to make a deal for him, huh? Help the boy pay-down some debt, without spending any of his hard-earned gold.” His gaze slithered over her body again. “We can talk about it in my private office.”
Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “I’ll pass.”
Woody wasn’t deterred by her disgusted tone. “Or if you’re looking for a place of your own to rent, I can let you have arealspecial deal.” His forked tongue flicked out of his mouth in a suggestive wriggle.
Clementine resisted the urge to punch him. “I already have an apartment.” She gestured towards 2C. “I live with Pecos Bill.”
He hesitated, his lascivious expression fading. “You’rethe one that coyote moved in?”
“Yes.”
“Holy shit.” Woody blurted out. “When he steals himself a woman, he goes all out, don’t he?”
“He didn’t steal me. We’re roommates.” She didn’t want to touch the icky man, so she didn’t bother to extend her hand for a formal introduction. “I’m Clementine Miner.”
“Right.” He edged backwards, like she suddenly made him nervous. “Bill came by to tell me you were moving in. Made sure I knew who you belonged to, in --like-- a reallyintenseway. He’s a hardass.”
When Luke called Bill a hardass, she tried to allay his concerns. When Woody called Bill a hardass, she nodded in firm agreement. “Hereallyis.” She fibbed without even blushing.Bill’s unfair reputation seemed to be deflating the man’s sleazy ardor.
Woody’s reptilian eyes darted around, suspecting Bill was lurking in the shadows, waiting to bushwhack him. “You guys are… close, huh?”
“Reallyclose. We would do anything for each other.” Hopefully, Bill didn’t mind her casting him in the role of a scary, protective force, standing between her and slimy landlords. “Best, best friends.”
“Riiiiiight.” Woody said again, more meaningfully this time.
At another point in Clementine’s life, she would have cringed at the leering implication of his tone. So many people assumed muses slept withso many people. It colored how she was perceived and made her want to prove everyone wrong.
