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“Yes, he did,” Tom said. “No, you can’t.”

Did she want to push this, to say it out loud? She had a week to find somewhere to live or she’d need to pay a hideous amount of money for an extended-stay apartment or take up professional-league couch surfing with Airbnb. She was going to her dream job for less salary in a more expensive city where she didn’t know anyone. “So you might have a room?”

“No.”

Interesting. He wouldn’t look at her. Tom wasn’t a great dissembler and he didn’t like being put on the spot. He stood stiffly, and since he was made of iron bars or granite boulders he presented a challenge. He’d rather be anywhere else but in this conversation, but he wouldn’t walk away while Jack was here.

She really needed someone to have a room. Anyone. Any room. “You rented it already?”

“I don’t plan to rent it.”

“But plans can change, right?”

“Not mine.”

“Ah, come on, Tom, colleague in temporary housing distress,” said Jack. “She’s a lobbyist, you’re a flack. You’re not in a competitive situation. Let the woman rent your room.”

“I can be very quiet,” Flick added.

Both men laughed so robustly, the room went still for a second. She shushed them. “I can. I am multidimensional. I can chameleon-shift with the best of the lizards. You wouldn’t even know I was there, Tom.”

“You, Flick Dalgetty, are your own worst press,” Tom said. “That is the fakest news I’ve ever heard. You couldn’t blend in with a riot.”

She ignored the insult. She could tolerate unfun boulder-built Tom O’Connell, because she’d soon have a new career in a new city. “I’ll hardly ever be there. I won’t have friends over. I won’t take up much space. I’ll pay the total up front, in advance. And I’ve got a plane ticket out of here and a start date at the new job, so it’s not like you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

“I’m planning on living alone.”

And rigid as a railroad track about that. “I see.”

“Come on, Tom. Do a colleague a solid,” said Jack, with a backslap that made Tom shift uncomfortably. “Flick, good luck, stay in touch. I’m done with social experiments. I’m going to find my girl and get out of here.”

They both watched Jack go. “I wanted a word with him,” Tom said, at the same time as Flick said, “I’d be grateful if you’d consider renting your room to me.”

“No.”

No doubt about his intention there. “You really mean yes, but you need to think about it.”

“I really mean no, and I don’t need to think about it.”

“But you’re thinking about it.”

“I came over to pitch Haley a story and you scared him off.”

“No one scares Jack Haley off.”

Tom grunted. “I believe you could do it.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“You would. You don’t take no, do you?”

“Only when there’s zero alternative.” And the alternative to rigid stick-up-his-ass, boulder-that-wouldn’t-roll-over Tom O’Connell was money she didn’t want to spend or a back complaint she didn’t want to get. “Whatever your house rules are, I’ll follow them without a grunt of protest.”

“Really.”

She made a bring-it gesture.

“No pets—”

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