Page 29 of Lease to Love

This one was the guilty one. And I wasn't going to let her sit in it.

I pulled my attention back to the present, back to the warm apartment and the food in my hand and the Sunday morning light coming through the window over the sink, and I thought: forward, always forward.

"Okay, guess what breakfast is."

A beat. Then, despite herself, a small laugh. "Summer."

"Guess!"

A sigh on the other end. "Is it carryout?"

I giggled. "How'd you know?"

"Because wings and fries are your broke girl comfort food, and I know your pockets are hurting because Sexy Sterling is supposed to come collect rent today."

I rolled my eyes.

I wasn't touching the Sexy Sterling comment with a ten-foot pole.

Nine days had come and gone in a blur of flash sales, ten-hour days at the shop, and daily communication with Roman's property manager.

But I had the money. Just like I'd said I would.

I'd intentionally waited until the last possible day to pay him, and I'd specifically requested to pay with a cashier's check.

If Roman wanted to handle things in person so badly, fine.

He could come get it.

Enjoy DC traffic on a Sunday, asshole.

“So when is he coming?” Maya asked.

I took a bite of my chicken. “Hell if I know.”

“You didn't ask?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't care. And he'll probably take forever anyway, descending from his ivory tower.” I waved my free hand dramatically. “Penthouse in Foggy Bottom. Mansion in Gaithersburg. Secret underground lair where he counts his money and plots against small business owners.”

Maya laughed. “You know you don't actually know where this man lives.”

“I know where he doesn't live. Anywhere near me.”

She laughed again. “You need to offer him a little something other than a cashiers check to cover your rent next time...”

I nearly inhaled my chicken. “Maya!”

“What?”

“No. Absolutely the fuck not.”

“I'm just saying—”

“And I’m just saying,” I cut her off, “I wouldn't fuck Roman Sterling with somebody else's pussy.”