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“You showed up on my roof last night, and now you’re here.”
I chuckle. “Should I remind you I live only a few blocks fromhere?”
She sits on the ground, opening her legs wide. I look up at the sky, counting from a thousand to one and skipping numbers because I might’ve forgotten how to think.Pull yourself together, Derek.
Piper stretches her arms, touching her left foot and then looking at me. Fuck, she’s bendy. The things we can do together.
“This is just strange,” she says.
“What are we talking about, Ms. Cooperson?”
“Your last job was two years ago. Though you came highly recommended by your last employer—who also told me I was lucky you picked me—I’m wondering why me? I thought your most recent job finished a few months ago. I’m confused.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“You’re leasing a thirty-thousand-dollar apartment. Only earning a third of that…” She straightens up and goes to her right side. “Your résumé doesn’t match our conversation or your reference. See where I’m having trouble understanding your presence?”
Why did shejustcall my reference? I waited to see if she ever ran a background check on me, but that never happened. Not that anything bad would show up. Derek Farrow is a veteran with a clean record and excellent credentials.
“I paid the entire year up front,” I say because it’s the safest response I can come up with.
“Suspicious,” she singsongs.
“How so?”
“I don’t know, what’s your ulterior motive? What drives you to pay so much with so little income? Unless you’re doing some money laundering.”
I chuckle and wonder how she came up with that conclusion. “If you let me invite you for breakfast, I’ll let you in on a secret.”
She eyes me suspiciously. “Is this where you lure me to your basement?”
“Shall I remind you that I live on the fifth floor ofyourapartment building?”
“Huh, you got me there.”
“Though, as much as I would love to cook for you, I haven’t gone shopping all week. So we’ll have to pick up our food at the juice bar around the corner or the coffee shop.”
“Juice bar is fine.”
Piper looksaround my place and smirks. “Wow, I love what you’ve done with the place. It’s so… minimalistic.”
There’s not much. Only a mattress and a table. I plan on buying more this week when I have time to browse online or go to a store.
“You want to come with me to buy some furniture?” I ask, hopeful.
She presses her lips together, looking at me. I have the feeling that she wants to say yes, but instead, she says, “Secret first.”
“What are you talking about?” I hand her the carrot ginger juice she ordered along with the açai bowl.
“Motive. I need to know why you rented this apartment and decided to work for me.”
“Why did you hire me?” I flip the question.
“During our interview, you mentioned your latest case. You helped a man who couldn’t walk or talk recover—and used my music to help.” She narrows her gaze. “Was that a lie?”
“It was all true,” I say, drinking the ginger lemon shot. According to Piper, it’s good for my immune system. She drinks one a week. “This is… ugh.”
“You’ll get used to it.” She waves a hand as if she believes I’ve converted to her juice madness. “So, when did this miraculous case happen?”
