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“Utilities...” She shakes her head. “I don’t know... it feels like too much.”
“Consider it a benefit of the job.”
She laughs. “This is the best freaking job I’ve ever had. I keep waiting for the catch.”
Ah, I was wondering when would be a good time to bring this up. “There’s no catch, but there is a... cat.”
She eyes Sebastian. “Well, yeah.”
“What I mean is... Ollie is allergic to cats. So Princess Ugly here would have to stay with you. He usually hangs around the pub during the day whenever I’m there, and I’m happy to do all the litter box changing and feeding, but he’ll be around, is what I mean. I hope that won’t be a bother.”
Raine looks at me as if I’ve just said something offensive. “You’retelling me this place is rent-freeandcomes with a cute roommate? Sounds like a dream. I’m happy to do the cat chores. It’ll make me feel a teensy tiny bit better about mooching off of you.”
Raine peers down at Sebastian, who has abandoned the baguette and is rubbing up against her legs again.Suck-up, I think. She scoops him into her arms, and I want to laugh, because he’s so big he practically covers her entire torso.
“Jeez, he weighs a million pounds,” Raine says. “Excuse me, a millionkilos.” She turns away, humming to herself as she wanders around the room. She pauses in front of the gallery I’ve hung on the wall separating the living room and the kitchen. “Did you do these?”
I move to stand beside her. “I did.”
Most of the pieces are ink drawings from my tattooing days. Some of them I actually did tattoo; some of them I wanted to tattoo, but I quit before I got the chance.
Raine inspects a surrealist drawing of a man with a blender for a head. The blender is filled with various fruits and bits of rubbish. His expression is off-kilter, one blueberry eye lower than the other. Raine leans closer.
“Are those... cigarette butts for eyebrows?”
“Em... they are, yeah.”
I know it’s odd. Not all my stuff is so out there. I did a lot of traditionalism and realism too, but surrealism was always my favorite. It never fails to evoke an emotional response, whether it be good or bad. I once told Martina that I have so little control over my own mind that it’s cathartic to put something nonsensical into the world on purpose.
Raine leans away and nods. “I feel you, blender dude. Half of my thoughts are garbage too.”
I don’t realize I’m waiting for her reaction until she says that, and my shoulders relax a bit.
She scans the wall, then slides her gaze to me. “Did you design your tattoos?”
“Some of them. But not any of these,” I say, and nod to my arms.
“Where all do you have tattoos?”
“Oh... here and there. It would be quicker to tell you where I don’t have them.”
“Interesting...” The way she looks me over has me imagining situations in which she might find every single one.
Most professional coworker.I ask the first question that comes to mind. Anything to knock those scenarios out of my head before it becomes obvious what I’m thinking about. “Do you have any?”
“Tattoos?”
I nod.
“Not yet. But I’ve been wanting to get one.” She turns away and drifts over to my bedroom door.
I trail after her. “What do you want to get?”
“Hmm... I don’t know.” She pauses before the door to my bedroom. “Do you mind?”
I shake my head. She sets Sebastian down, then opens the door to poke her head inside. After a moment she turns to me with a barely contained smile. “Nina was right, your bed is huge.”
I roll my eyes.
