Page 39 of Unlocked

Pushing away his helping hand, Tatum stood and dumped the remnants of the mug into the garbage. She wasn't sure where her phone was at the moment. It was probably true she hadn't looked at it since coming back to the apartment last night.

"You can tell her I'm fine. Sorry, I just got busy and haven't picked up my phone today."

Josh snorted. "She's not gonna believe that."

"Well, it's the truth." She resisted the urge to call him an asshole to his face.

He was standing there looking around her apartment, eyes narrowed slightly.

"What?" she demanded.

"Your place. It's just so neat."

"Well—"

"It just looks a little more lived-in usually."

She glanced around. It did look sterile. Extremely tidy. And it was, just not because of her. But before she could formulate a response, her phone buzzed from somewhere in the living room. The coffee table, that's where she'd left it.

She was in the middle of dealing with Josh's unexpected intrusion and now this. She pressed her lips together, frustration simmering. Could she not get five minutes to think? To work? To just be without someone showing up, demanding answers, needing something from her?

She turned sharply toward the sound, leaving Josh standing in the kitchen. At least she now knew where her cell was. She glanced at the screen. Bunny. No way was she answering that call. She got a fresh mug and poured herself another coffee.

"Your mother is quite concerned."

"Bunny is always concerned, Joshua."

"Yes, but she's really quite concerned at the moment. She thinks you're spending too much time on this whole Ponzi scheme thing. She really wants you to give that up."

"I know what she wants, but if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. Even Mick Jagger knows you can’t always get what you want.”

He offered her a half-smile, but his eyes kept darting around the apartment.

Dammit, she had somehow transformed into a person suspicious of everything. The sooner Josh left her apartment, the happier she’d be. "Is there something else you wanted, Josh?"

"No, it's just, you know, I'm trying to keep the peace. Bunny can be a wee bit intense."

"She’s my mother. You don't have to tell me."

"Oh, honey, I understand. I'm just saying, perhaps you could hear her out⁠—"

Biting back the urge to snap at him to not call her honey, she ground out, "Look, I've spent my entire life humoring Bunny. I'm sort of done. So…if there's nothing else⁠—"

"You know, I don't think I've ever been out on your balcony," Josh said, crossing the room with one hand trailing along the back of her sofa.

Tatum sighed loudly. For fuck's sake. "Why do you care about my balcony, Josh?"

"It's a gorgeous day, darling. I would think you'd want to spend more time out here."

He wasn't wrong. It was a beautiful sunny day, just the right temperature. She loved early summer in New York. By August, the city got smelly, but now it was lovely.

She crossed the floor with her coffee and followed him out onto the terrace. It wasn't a balcony exactly. It was a terrace, with a table and chairs for eating and lounge chairs for everything else.

Josh walked over to the railing and looked down. "Oh my God, fantastic view," he said, pressing one hand to his chest.

"You don't have any outside space at your apartment?"

He snorted delicately. "You know how few apartments in Manhattan have outdoor space?"