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Kiera pushed away a stray piece of hair. She’d clean the dirty bowls and pans later. Right now, she needed to get the perishable food put away. Thanks to years of practice, it took mere minutes to get food wrapped and put away, leaving her enough time for a hot shower, she hoped.
For the second time that week, only luke-warm water flowed from the showerhead. Actually, luke-warm water in her loft had become the norm over the past month. In fact, on several occasions, she’d driven to her friend’s apartment for a hot shower before work rather than suffer through an unpleasant cold one. Today, she’d have to suffer.
Once showered and dried off, Kiera grabbed a sweater from her drawer, her teeth chattering too much for her to care which one it was, and then she cranked up the thermostat. While the hot water remained temperamental, the heating system worked just fine. Quickly, she pulled on her clothes, which left only one thing to do: tackling the mess on her head that passed for hair.
Most days, she took the extra time required to blow the curly mop out straight. The clock said she didn’t have that luxury today.
“A bun it is,” she said as she pulled it into a high ponytail.
Kiera stabbed a hair stick through her bun, securing it as the intercom near the kitchen beeped. Passing the sink, she cast a glance at the overflowing mess. What she wouldn’t give for an industrial-sized dishwasher. Half the dishes in the sink wouldn’t fit in her tiny dishwasher. She had a lot of scrubbing to do later.
“I’m downstairs,” Gray said after she said hello.
“Come on in.” Kiera pressed the button that unlocked the door as she grabbed her jacket from the closet. Rather than wait for Gray to come up, Kiera shoved her arms into her jacket and walked into the hall and down the stairs.
When she hit the bottom step to the lobby, she stopped, annoyance almost making her groan. Of all the building occupants, why did Gray have to be in a conversation with her? Alexa Merrill, who lived in the loft next door. The one neighbor in the whole building Kiera disliked—and she suspected the feeling was mutual. They’d moved into the building the same day, yet that was about the only thing they had in common. Alexa gave the phrase “party girl” a whole new definition.
“I work Wednesday and Thursday nights at The Red Room,” Alexa told Gray as she leaned against the wall of mailboxes.
Kiera knew what type of place The Red Room was. The club posted huge billboards along the highway, which advertised the upscale strip club.
“If you’re still in town, stop by. You’ll love the show.”
She ought to save Gray from Alexa’s overzealous flirting, but he could probably handle it himself. His expression gave nothing away. A good friend would step in and save him, but she did find Alexa’s ability to come on to anything with a penis fascinating to watch. She, herself, had never mastered even the most basic aspects of flirting. Her neighbor, however, appeared to have a doctorate in it.
“I’m sure the show is great, but I plan to spend most of my time with family on this visit,” Gray answered, a polite smile pasted on his face.
Alexa ran a finger down Gray’s cheek, the bright pink nail polish almost blinding Kiera. “I’m free now if you want to come up. I’ll give you a sneak peek at my dance.”
Kiera ground her teeth together to keep the disgust from escaping. She seriously couldn’t believe men fell for Alexa.
“Actually, I’m having lunch with a frie
nd.” Gray glanced at the stairs. “Hey, Kiera. Ready to go?”
Even with an exotic dancer almost groping him, Gray sounded unaffected, so maybe not all men fell under Alexa’s spell.
“Ready.” She smiled even more when Alexa’s mouth dropped open.
“Great.” Gray took her hand and always the proper gentleman, he looked at Alexa again. “Have a nice day.”
Kiera struggled to keep from looking over her shoulder as they walked out. Alexa’s gaze was on her back, and Kiera feared she’d find burns marks in that spot later on.
“You have some, shall we say, interesting neighbors.” Gray led her to a two-door Mercedes in the parking lot, and opened the door for her.
“I don’t know why you’d say that. She’s well liked by the men in the building. And she must have really liked you. She doesn’t offer free shows to just anyone.”
Gray shot her a dirty look. “She’s not my type.” He closed the door before she could say anything else.
He slid behind the wheel, then pulled out of the parking lot. “Trent told me about a great Indian restaurant near his office. Is that okay for lunch?”
“Sounds good.”
During the car ride from Lincoln to Providence, they talked about the wedding that weekend and the weather, of all things. So far, the winter that year had been brutal. By the time they reached the restaurant, they’d both agreed that they didn’t know why their families didn’t relocate to more tropical locations where the only ice to be found was in the kitchen freezer.
“I don’t remember the last time I had Indian food,” Gray said as a host led them to a table.
She’d eaten at the popular Indian restaurant a few times since she’d moved back to Rhode Island. Each time she did, she ordered the same thing, so while Gray studied his menu, she studied him. He resembled his older brother Trent so much that people might confuse the two of them, but Gray’s dirty blond hair was a shade darker and his eyes were a shade lighter than his brother’s Sherbrooke blue.
