Page 59 of See Me

I grab the sides of my head to hold in the impending explosion. “I can’t!”

He crosses his arms over his chest and huffs out a breath through his nose like a dad disappointed in his daughter for paying hundreds of dollars to have premium air put in her tires.

“I’m sorry, is there a reason for this angry rendition ofWho’s on First?”

He kicks off the wall and takes a step toward the door. “You left.”

“Who are you here as?”

“What?” He cocks his head to the side and furrows his brows. “I’m me. Which you would’ve seen if you had used the damn peephole.”

I roll my eyes. “I saw when I opened the door, much to my disappointment.”

He grits his teeth and blows out another angry breath and I will my face not to react. I am really enjoying his exasperation. “Which would’ve been too late.”

“We could do this all night.” I pull my glasses off my head and put them on. “Are you here as my boss?”

His eyes bounce around my face and settle on the doorframe over my head. “Yes.”

“Well, in that case, I texted my supervisor, who you put in charge of me, and told him I needed some time off.”

He rubs his finger over his bottom lip. “What if I’m not here as your boss?”

“Then I would say… you left first.” I move to close the door and fail to hide the grin pulling at my lips as his mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water right before the door slams.

I rendered the mighty butthole speechless again. I’m getting good at this.

I skip all the way to the kitchen, set some upbeat music on my phone, and dance my way through a grilled cheese with tomato.

It’s been easy to get comfortable here. Too easy. The beauty of this place screams how far out of my price range I am. It’s fully furnished with what looks like top-of-the-line furniture that’s both neutral and comfortable. It was obviously set up to appeal to any potential tenant, young, old, married, or single.

Marble, dark woods, and exposed bricks and beams cover this place with charm and comfort. It’s a shame this gourmet kitchen will be wholly wasted on me. Cassie and her cooking spoiled me in college to the point where grilled cheese and scrambled eggs are the extent of my culinary abilities. The bathroom however, gets my full appreciation.

I grab a bottle of red wine off the little bar cart set up in the dining room, fully expecting it to be a decoration. When the weight of it ensures it's full and very, very real, I find a glass and a corkscrew and make my way to the large jetted tub.

I turn the tap to fill the tub and dump some scented bubbles in. There’s a sleek wooden tray that expands the widthof the tub with assorted candles and dried flowers. Now I know Luca had no part in decorating this place. If that were the case it would be covered in nudey calendars and beer caps. I’m speculating of course. I don’t know a thing about his personal life. Except he gets up before the sun and beats a hanging bag to death while trying to see how many decibels a normal eardrum can handle before it bleeds.

And we’re just going to leave all thoughts of him on the other side of that door I slammed in his face.

I grab my phone and strip off my clothes to sink in the tub. I fully intend to open my reading app and log in to Ashley’s romance book collection. But as soon as I sit back, the fatigue hits me. All the energy and good vibes drift away on soap bubbles as the optimism drains out of my body.

That lasted less than a day. Cool, cool.

It’s not like I forgot. Well, maybe I did for a few hours. I’m not so naive to think my troubles are over. The fact that Cassie, and soon Jess, knows everything doesn’t change my predicament. I’m still technically homeless, although being put up in this apartment has deferred the actual paying rent part, it doesn’t change the fact that I need to find a place of my own. This pretty little package I have myself wrapped up in isn’t reality. And I certainly don’t want to owe anyone any favors. Especially not muscly, tattooed bosses/landlords who make me come like a freight train.

Nope, don’t need that.

I’m suddenly too hot. I need to get out of this tub. I pull the plug, towel off, and throw on the light robe hanging on the back of the door. Why am I burning up? I walk through the dining room to the balcony and pull the door half open and peek out. A cute little bistro table and chairs sit in the back corner andoh that cool breeze feels amazing.I’ll just sit out here for a bit and cool off, maybe get somework done.

I grab my laptop, phone, and wine and make myself comfortable. There’s almost a wall of potted plants along one railing that creates some privacy from the neighboring patio. With plenty of light from the building across the street, I lean my head out and see the hilly road lined with cars, although I’m high enough not to hear too much traffic.

Having had reality smack me in the face once again in the tub, I search the local rental listings and screenshot a few potential locations. Christmas is next week. My job starts the first week of January, which gives me less than a month to save enough for a deposit. I know Luca said I could stay here as long as I needed, but I want to get out of here. As fabulous as this place is, it’s not mine, and the longer I stay the harder it will be to leave and get comfortable in the meager place I can actually afford.

Why am I still hot? I pull the robe open and let my legs breathe and look at the weather app. It’s fifty-six degrees. I shouldn’t be hot. I fan myself with my laptop case and go over some notes in my lesson plans.

I hear a littlemeepand look around. What was that?

Okay. No more wine.

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