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“I appreciate it. I’ll drop by the deposit and sign whatever paperwork you need.”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. I don’t know who this guy thinks he’s talking to, but I’m not about to rent to the first asshole that calls my number.
“I’ll need to do a background check?” Really, Nola? Are you sure you need to do a background check?
“Of course. I can provide whatever you need. I’d like to move in this evening.”
“This … wait, wait. This is moving …. I just need to process this a second.” I slap a hand to my forehead, trying to make sense of what’s going on. I’d planned to rent the place, hoping for five hundred a month, realizing most would probably take one look at the place and insist on four. This guy is willing to pay twelve, and he hasn’t even seen it. Surely, when he sees it, after agreeing to pay such an ungodly amount over the phone, he’ll want to strangle me. I’d want to strangle me.
“Sure. Process away.”
“We’ll start with a background check first. If you could …”
“Do you have a pen? I’m happy to provide my name and social security.”
Again, I’m slapped upside the head. Who the hell gives out that information over the phone? “Just like that? You don’t even know me. I mean, I could be some weirdo, roping in unsuspecting guys. A grifter. Or a black widow.”
“A grifter? I never thought of that. Or a black widow, for that matter.” The amusement in his voice adds an interesting spin to his response. “How about if I come by and see it. Make sure you’re not trying to lure me into a web.”
“When?”
“Tonight. Eight o’clock.”
“Eight? That’s …” Dark, and the perfect cover for bad shit to go down. “How about tomorrow morning? Not too early. I’m working a double tonight.”
“How’s ten?”
“Ten works.” I don’t even really know what I’m agreeing to. Not even posted a full forty-eight hours, I’ve already got a potential renter who’s willing to pay more than double what I planned to rent it for. I should feel guilty about that, but if this guy turns out to be a creep, I’ll consider the extra seven hundred an added security deposit—as in, the cost of adding cameras, and shit, to my house.
I click off the call and head back inside, still somewhat stunned.
Bethany’s fixing her lipstick at the lunch counter, and I approach from behind and knock her elbow, sending a line of candy apple red up to her nose.
“Bitch!” she says, chuckling when she wipes the mess with a napkin.
“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.”
“You’re in a good mood. What’s that about?”
“I think I have someone to rent the in-law suite. Means I don’t have to take all these extra shifts. For the next month, anyway, unless he decides to rent longer.”
“He?”
Ugh, anything with a dick, and she’s all over it. “We’ll see. If he turns out to be a creeper, I’ll be sure to send him to you and Harv.”
“You met him yet?”
“No. Not yet. Supposed to check out the apartment tomorrow morning.”
“What if he’s tall and muscular? And hot as hell?”
“I’m not looking for a hookup, Beth. I just need some extra cash for Christmas.”
“Hookups are good for you. A healthy sex life is important, and let’s face it, you didn’t have much of that when Denny was alive.”
I don’t answer that, because she’s right. Denny and I shared the occasional quickie in the bathroom, while Oliver was asleep, mostly just to blow off some of the tension between us. Always felt like more of a weekly quota than a sex life.
“Well, that’s what vibrators are for, right?”
