I still stared at the screen. Staring, seething. They have notes, do they? How dare they? Take it or leave it. I couldn’t care less.
They responded to the demands.
They implied partial ownership of Ripley. Absolutely not.
To the left came the sound of a camera shutter clicking as he asked, “Did you just growl?”
I glared at Pace.
He grinned down at his phone. “This might be this year’s Christmas card.”
“I’m not sure I want to rent to them now.” I locked my phone.
“Why not? They agreed to all the rules. I don’t think you can find anybody better than this.”
“C.L. Wells. Sounds fake,” I said. “Probably not even a real person, just some robot. Isn’t that a thing on the internet?—”
“A C.L. Wells lives in Colorado Springs,” Pace interrupted, reading from his phone. My eyes narrowed distrustfully at how quickly he found that information. “A journalist. That vibes with their comments. Seems legit. No picture, though,” he finished.
I bit my tongue to prevent any more skepticism from escaping.
“Don’t make that grumbly sound. Ask, and ye shall receive. This is perfect. Better let them know. They seem in a hurry,” he said.
Pace looked at me hopefully. It was the same look he’d been giving me for months, confident this was the moment things would start to turn around. I couldn’t crush that hope. The only thing worse than interacting with people was disappointing my best friend after how he’s stuck by my side when I’d been a total shit. I could at least try for his sake. When it failed, I would go back to the way things were.
Peace and quiet.
I responded to the email. “It will be available tomorrow.”
“Good job. I’m proud of you,” Pace said gently, causing my throat to tighten. Was this how low the bar was for me now? “This will be good. You’ll see.” He looked so damnhopeful I couldn’t help but sigh a nod. “Plus, they seem …” Pace hesitated.
“Intense? Nosy? All around too much?” I asked dryly.
“They seem perfect for you,” he settled on. He shook my shoulder, an all too entertained look on his face.
My phone pinged with their immediate response.
An all-caps explosion of punctuation and yelling greeted me.
“OMG!! Thank you so much!!! You are a lifesaver!!”
I winced.
“This is gonna be great.” Pace didn’t bother hiding his glee as he read over my shoulder.
I stared at the screen and wondered if I’d just made a horrible mistake.
It didn’t matter. They were paying up front. I wouldn’t even interact with them. Nothing had to change.
I glanced at the guesthouse one last time.
About damn time.
Chapter 3
The Listing
Single-bedroom guesthome available in the Colorado Rockies. Ten miles north of downtown Cozy Creek, Colorado.(My replies below in bold—C.W.)
