Page 81 of Broken Romeo

I take it carefully. “What’s this?”

He shrugs. “A thing I’m doing.”

“A… thing?”

I glance at the flyer for a band playing at a pub downtown.

“My band,” he says, his eyes on my tits again, though he quickly redirects them back to my face. Well… A for effort, I guess. “We’re playing a gig next week. You should come. Bring Jill.”

“Um. Okay. I’ll… try to make it.” Ah, yes. The perfect general ‘maybe’ answer.

I shove the flyer into my bag as well and book it for the ATM to deposit this check, then hop onto the bus to rush across town.

I still have forty minutes before I need to be at rehearsal, which leaves me just enough time to swing by Ms. Greene’s midtown office to drop off my rent check.

I don’t have the entirety yet, but I figure if I give her some now, earlier than her deadline, it may earn me some goodwill.

For someone who owns several buildings in New York, Ms. Greene’s office is pretty small and generic. It’s an old office building where she rents a single room for herself and her assistant—who always seems to be at lunch when I call or stop in.

So much so that I wonder if she even has an assistant or if she just pretends to in order to make herself seem more important.

I knock on the glass door and open it, poking my head around to where Ms. Greene is standing at a memo board, staring at something pinned there. “Uh… Ms. Greene?”

She turns, seeming genuinely startled to see me. And who can blame her? I’ve spent the better part of a year avoiding her to dodge rent payments.

“Kate,” she says. “What are you doing here?”

I clear my throat and hold out the hand-written check for her. “It’s not quite enough… yet. But I’m working on it. And I should have the rest for you by next week—”

“The rest?” she asks but doesn’t take the check from me. “You’re already paid in full.”

I snort a laugh and wave the check. “Uh, I think I’d remember paying you three thousand dollars.”

“Someone from your show brought it in this morning.”

I drop my arm, my eyes drifting closed, exhaustion sweeping my heavy limbs. Holden.

It has to be Holden.

A couple nights ago he overhears that I’m going to be evicted and, magically, a check appears saving me from said eviction?

“Was it a man?” I ask. “About my age? Dark hair, brown eyes—”

“And an ass you could bounce a quarter off of?” she says wistfully, then gives me a sheepish smile.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Gray Faced Greene is apparently a cougar, and I can’t help but snort a laugh as her grin widens. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen ol’ Gray Faced Greene smile before.

Certainly, never at me.

“Yeah, that’s him,” I say, laughing.

Ms. Greene winks at me. “Be careful with that one. The charming bosses are always trouble.”

Don’t I freaking know it.

She smooths a weathered hand across her sleek bun. “I had to admit, I thought you were lying when you said you finally got your big break. I can’t wait to see it.”

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