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“Oh, it’s no problem, dear. Happy to help anytime. Oh, and I almost forgot to ask you… Did your boyfriend get in touch with you? He came by here right after you left for the airport, was looking for you.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t realized Marcus went by my apartment before driving to the airport to catch me. Is that how he knew when my flight was? Because now that I’m thinking about it, I never told him my flight number or what time I was supposed to fly out. All I said was that I’m going to Florida on Wednesday.
Making a mental note to ask Marcus about this, I tell Mrs. Metz, “Yes, he caught up with me. Everything is fine, thank you.”
“Oh, okay, good.” She clears her throat. “Wait, did you say, ‘caught up?’ Is he there with you now?”
“Um… yes. Yes, he is.” In fact, at this very moment, he’s staring at me as I pace by the edge of water with my phone, his gaze as hot as the sun baking my shoulders. I stepped away to make this call so I wouldn’t bother him, but I seem to be distracting him from work anyway.
Which is fair, as having those sculpted pecs and eight-pack abs next to me as I tried to edit was quite distracting. To the point that I kept picturing him in place of the novella’s werewolf hero during every steamy scene.
I hope the heroine wasn’t left with three arms or an extra pair of shoes because of that.
“So you two are serious?” Mrs. Metz presses. “I didn’t even know you were dating anyone.”
“Well, it’s…” I lose my train of thought as Marcus stands up and moves the chairs deeper into the shade, the muscles in his powerful body flexing with the movement. Turning away from the mouthwatering sight, I manage to say, “I’m not sure yet.”
“Okay, well, if you two decide to move in together, do let me know. I’m thinking of putting the townhouse on the market, so if you want to be let out of the lease early…” She trails off, but I get the hint and my stomach tightens with a rush of dread.
She wants me to vacate the basement studio but is too nice to kick me out before my current lease is up.
Which is in eight months.
I was counting on her to let me renew with only a small rent increase, same as in prior years, but that’s clearly not happening. Moreover, now that I know she wants to sell, I’d be an ass to stay for the full eight months.
Mrs. Metz has always been accommodating, so much so she let me pay late when I had unexpected vet bills or other emergencies.
“I’ll start looking for a new place as soon as we return to New York,” I promise, even as my mind whirls with growing panic. Where am I going to find another apartment in my price range? Property values and rents in Brooklyn have skyrocketed in the past couple of years, and the only reason I’ve been paying so little is because my apartment hasn’t been renovated in ages. And what about moving expenses? Will my cheap furniture even survive the move?
“That’s wonderful. Thank you, dear.” Mrs. Metz sounds relieved; she must really want me gone. “I’ll give you a good reference, and I’m sure that new boyfriend of yours can help out. He looks like he’s done well for himself.”
“Oh, he’s—yes. Yes, he has.” Does she know Marcus is a billionaire, or was she just impressed by his clothes and car? Either way, believing that I have a wealthy boyfriend to lean on seems to be a balm to her conscience, so I refrain from telling her that I have no intention of accepting Marcus’s help with the move—especially of the monetary kind.
If he wants to carry a few boxes for me, I might take him up on that… if only because I want to see those biceps in action.
“That’s good. I’m so happy for you, dear. Now I have to run. Talk to you soon.” Mrs. Metz hangs up, and I lower my phone to stare blankly at the screen. I’m still staring at it when strong arms wrap around my waist, and a big, sun-warmed body presses against my back.
“Something wrong?” Marcus murmurs, dipping his head to nibble on my ear. “You’ve been standing here a while.”
“Oh, no, everything is fine.” Though I’m still reeling from the conversation with Mrs. Metz, my body reacts to his nearness same as always, my heart pounding faster and my skin flushing with heat that has nothing to do with the sun. Stepping out of his embrace, I turn around and paste on a smile. “I’m just missing my fur babies, that’s all.”
There’s no way I’m telling Marcus I’m about to be homeless.
