Page 5 of Landlord Wars
Jack shrugged. “That’s his normal first impression. Also, I might not have chosen the best roommate last time. But that has nothing to do with you. I’ll talk to Max.”
That was a relief. “Thank you.”
I lowered myself onto one of the rattan barstools and squeezed the bottom of my foot, rubbing circulation back into it. The blister wasn’t as bad as I’d feared, but it hurt like a bitch. I tipped my chin up in his direction. “You look very cozy over there in your sweatpants. Seems like you spend most of your time working from home. You ever need to go in to work?”
He stretched his arms over his head, his mouth gaping in a yawn. “I’m not conventional when it comes to routines. I get my best work done between the hours of midnight and four in the morning, and no one I work with cares.”
“No wonder I never see you.” I limped into the kitchen and washed my hands before pulling out a forties-era green mug I’d found in a vintage shop on Polk Street and my favorite fruity tea. I filled the mug with water and placed it in the microwave, then punched in a cook time before turning around.
“There’s something I wanted to run by you.” My hands began to sweat. Rocking the boat went against the grain, and I felt like I was already screwing this up.
Jack reached into one of the upper cabinets and held up a bag of kettle corn. “This up for grabs?”
“It’s all yours.” The microwave beeped, and I flinched. I was acting like a scaredy-cat, and I needed to relax. People asked for favors. Especially when they lived together. Like grabbing the mail or emptying the dishwasher. This was no big deal. “What do you think of my sister staying the night?”
Now that Landlord Devil wasn’t intimidating me with his power suit, I decided it wasn’t up to him who stayed in the apartment. It was up to Jack.
Jack tore open the top of the popcorn and poured the contents into a large bowl. “Yeah, sure.”
“For a few nights?”
He shrugged.
“Or a few weeks?”
He stopped what he was doing and looked up. “You want your sister to move in?”
I bit the inside of my lip. “Not move in, because that’s against the sublease. Maybe stay for several days out of the month?” I offered him a shaky smile.
Jack set the bowl down. “Sophia, I don’t mind if your sister needs a place to crash. Not sure I’d be up for a sorority of girls at the place…” He shook his head as though to clear it. “On second thought, that’s probably fine too.” He grinned.
My eyebrows rose. Jack didn’t come across as a player, but what the hell did I know? “It’s like that, is it?”
He chuckled. “Not exactly. But lately I’ve been antisocial for various reasons, and I should probably get over it.”
There was a story there I hoped to hear one day. “You’re doing better than me. It’s been almost a year since I broke up with my ex, and I haven’t gone out once.”
He nodded. “We’re a perfect match. We can sit around and cry while watching romantic comedies.”
I chuckled and pulled out the steaming mug. “You paint a charming picture, but I’m trying to have a life now that I’m living here.” I dipped the tea bag in the mug and limped back to the barstool.
“What’s wrong with your foot?” he asked. “You hurt yourself?”
“Women’s fashion hurts me.”
He shook his head slowly. “Why do women wear high heels?”
“Because men think we look hot in them?”
He held up his hands. “I personally don’t care.”
“You say that now, but if a woman walked in wearing a miniskirt, with long legs in heels…”
“I’d marvel at how she balanced and think of nothing inappropriate.” His look was expressionless, which gave him away. He was trying too hard, and I saw right through it.
“Sure you would.” I held up my bloody heel, careful not to flash him in my work skirt. “We do it with a pound of flesh.”
He cringed. “Got it. Keep in mind, we’ll look even if you wear comfortable shoes, so don’t blame us.” He scratched his stubbled jaw and seemed to consider something. “How old did you say your sister was?” His tone held interest.
