AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Probably not.”
“I think, for now, we should probably ignore the docs and keep looking for cameras and other digital devices. In the name of being thorough, though, we can circle back to the documents later, once we’re done looking through everything else.”
“Good plan, boss,” Charlotte says, saluting me. “I’ll bring the box of documents back with me and look through them whenever I need a break from physical labor.”
“You don’t have to do that. I can look through them.”
“I want to do it. You’re busy with classes and studying, and I’m an unemployed, nosy bitch.”
I laugh. “Thank you. But only if you really don’t mind.”
“I don’t. I’d love to do it. I’d much rather snoop through the remnants of another person’s life than doom-scroll through another dating app.”
I cringe. “Ugh. Dating apps. So depressing.”
“For you, too? I would have thought a hunky hottie like you would get tons of matches.”
A hunky hottie? My heart stops at Charlotte’s compliment, even though my brain knows “hunky hotties,” whatever that means, aren’t Charlotte McDougal’s cup of tea. She already told me so in no uncertain terms. “You’ve got me pegged all wrong,” I say. “It doesn’t matter how many people I match with. In the end, the result is always the same. Wasted time. Not enough chemistry in person to keep pursuing it. Honestly, I don’t think I’m in the right headspace to invest a lot of time in getting to know someone. The vet program is intense, and I don’t have a lot of free time. The little I have, I’d rather spend with family or friends or on my own, relaxing or hanging out with Lucky.”
“If you met the right woman, I bet you’d be happy to make time for her,” Charlotte says. She shoots me a flirtatious wink. “Either way, I don’t think you’re going to have any trouble finding Miss Right, once you’re out of school. You’re a catch now, even as a student, but once you’re a veterinarian, you’ll be irresistible catnip to women.”
I roll my eyes. “Says the woman who’s already made it clear I’m not even close to her flavor of catnip.”
“Yeah, but I’m a weirdo with a defective picker. I’ve always had horrible taste in men. I’m a train wreck, Auggie. Ask Tessa, she’ll tell you.”
Who is this humble, self-deprecating woman? Whoever she is, she’s downright pleasant. A stark one-eighty from the woman who accused me of spilling that coffee on purpose and then feigned a knee injury in order to sabotage my interview.
After beaming a lovely smile at me, Charlotte moves on to a new box. As she works, I watch her for a moment, trying to make sense of this newfound chemistry I’m feeling between us. I’m not completely sure if I trust this version of Charlotte; but even so, I’m nonetheless quite certain I’d fuck her, if given the chance. I can fully accept I’m not Charlotte’s usual type. But she did just now say dating apps are trash for her, like they are for me, and that she’s not planning to stay in Seattle, long-term. For fuck’s sake, we live right next-door to each other.Mere feet away. And I don’t think I’m imagining our physical chemistry, no matter what she says about me not having a chance with her. So maybe, all things considered, Charlotte would be down for a little no-strings fling with me while she’s temporarily living mere feet away? Is that really such a crazy thought?
Charlotte abruptly looks up from the box, making me flinch.
She smiles like she’s read my damned mind. “What?”
“What?” I echo.
“You were staring at me.”
I open and close my mouth, and finally settle on, “You were looking down.”
“A fact you wouldn’t know unless you were staring at me.”
“Oh.”
She laughs. “Whywere you staring at me, Augustus? Hmm?”
Okay, she’sdefinitelyflirting with me. “I was just thinking that I appreciate you coming here to help me out. Also, I’m relieved we’re getting along better. I hate conflict.”
“So do I. This is much better.” With a little wink, she returns to her box, so I do the same, even though I’m feeling all kinds of confused and flustered.
Thankfully, about thirty minutes later, we still haven’t found a single thing to suggest the prior owner of Charlotte’s condo, the pervert known as Lloyd Graham, recorded anything through his dastardly hole in the wall. There are still a few more boxes and stacks to go through, but we’re in the home stretch now, and things are looking good.
I open a new box and begin digging through it. Forks. A tattered book. A pair of scissors. A plastic chicken. A bunch of socks. Ziploc bags.A flip phone. The old-school kind that doesn’t have a camera, thank God.
“This is promising,” I say, holding up the antiquated phone. “If this was Lloyd’s when he died, it’s a good bet he never made the leap to a smartphone.”
Charlotte pulls a face. “Unless that’s the old phone he tossed into a drawer after finally buying a smartphone.”
I tilt my head, weighing that idea. “If we don’t find a smartphone after going through everything, then I think we can safely conclude this was his final phone. Agreed?”
