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“This is impressive, really,” she said, as she held up a sweater that now looked like it would fit her much smaller frame. She briefly wondered whether it smelled like he did, like expensive cologne and coffee, and if it did, whether he would notice if she stole it for herself… but she pushed the thought aside.
Stalker.
“What is?”
“Your inability to do laundry. This is the best worst laundry I’ve ever seen.”
“I will take that compliment. My ego needs it,” he said forlornly, standing next to her and sifting through the pile himself.
Kate fumbled on the inside of the sweater for the tag.
“This is your first mistake,” she held it up to him, so he could read the words ‘Dry Clean Only’.
“Ah. I… didn’t know that was there.”
Kate continued looking through all of the laundry tags
“How did you not know all your clothes were dry clean only?”
“I… I’ve not really been doing my own laundry up until this point.”
Kate wondered who had been doing it instead. His mother? A girlfriend? A wife?
A pang of jealousy went through her at the thought. She truly didn’t know anything about this man. It’s perfectly plausible that he’d been married to a woman who was more than happy to take care of all his laundry for him. Or maybe they’d been wealthy enough to have someone come and sort it for them? Her mind boggled. That was a situation she could never imagine for herself.
“We’ll need to get you some replacements.” Kate continued. There was no way he could wear any of this. “Or you’ll be trapped inside of my apartment.”
“Would that be so bad?” he joked gently, nudging her side. His proximity, as always, was making it hard for her to think clearly.
“I think you’d get pretty bored of just having me for company after a while,” she tried to deflect.
“I’m not so sure about that.”
Would it be so bad? The two of them holed up here, with no one else to worry about? No prying eyes or salacious rumors? No responsibility to worry about? Of course, that was pure fantasy. Her life wasn’t like that. No one’s life was like that. All play and no work. That was just a dream.
“You’d get sick of me eventually.” She brushed off his comment and what it implied about what he wanted to happen between them. That was all she could do. They were keeping it strictly professional. Boss and employee. Roommates. That was it.
“I can’t exactly go clothes shopping like this.” Emile gestured down at his towel and Kate tried very hard not to look. She mostly succeeded, too.
“No, but I could go out and get some bits for you tomorrow.”
“It’s not just my attire that’s the problem. My, er, financial situation is also not brilliant at present.”
Kate could only imagine how much the clothes in front of her cost. There were designer labels in every one of them — some she recognized and some she didn’t, but there was no mistaking the quality, and therefore the cost, of what was in the pile. Even replacing them with regular clothes wouldn’t be a cheap endeavor. Not something that she could afford to help with, either.
But, there was a solution. There was always a solution.
“It’s no problem. Give me ten minutes and I’ll see what I can do.”
Kate pulled out her phone and fired up the book club chat.
Guys, you know I was saying earlier that Emile was a bit hopeless at household tasks? He’s managed to shrink all of his clothes tonight (don’t ask). Any chance we can borrow some stuff until we get a chance to go shopping?
If there was one thing that Kate had learned during her time living in Miller Springs, it was that the community could be trusted to come through in a crisis, however big, small or ridiculous it was.
Her phone immediately started blowing up with texts offering various bits and pieces, and it didn’t take long for her to have coordinated enough to get Emile dressed and decent.
“All sorted,” Kate said triumphantly, turning back to Emile, who had made himself comfortable on the sofa while she’d been furiously texting.
