Page 22 of Rock Bottom

But that was the thing about fantasies, wasn’t it? They weren’t real.

Church was still avoiding me most of the day. The guy might’ve been built like a bulldog, but when it came to anything resembling flirting, he was as shy as a mouse. A church mouse. I winced at my own bad pun. Ladies, gents, and enby pals, Dante the professional lyricist.

The back door slammed, and I rolled over to look at the clock. It was time for Church’s ten a.m. perimeter walk, and he was on schedule, as always.

Maybe I should just get some sleep, I thought, rolling over the other way. I tucked my hands under my head with a sigh and closed my eyes.

Not two seconds later, the sound of a vacuum roared through the house. I sat up, heart racing. If Church was outside, then who was cleaning downstairs? Had they brought in a housekeeper? I trotted to the top of the stairs and leaned over the railing, half-expecting to find Luci, my housekeeper from L.A. downstairs. Instead, there was a young man in blue coveralls vacuuming the rug. He had a bright yellow feather duster in his back pocket, and there was a plastic cart nearby full of sprays and bottles.

I crept closer and stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching him work. “Hello,” I said as soon as he shut off the vacuum.

The man flinched so hard, his oversized round glasses nearly fell off his face. “Oh shit! You scared the hell out of me! Oh! It’s you! I mean…” He flushed and slid the vacuum behind his back like he was trying to hide it before sticking out his hand. “I’m Oscar. Oscar Hayes.”

I shook his hand. “Dante.”

“I know. I mean…I’m a fan. Big fan.”

The guy looked like he was about to vibrate out of his skin, but he was also still holding my hand tight in his sweaty palm.

I chuckled. “Well, Oscar, can I have my hand back? He and I are kinda attached.”

“Oh, my bad.” He let me go. “Sorry, I’m not usually like this but like… I’m your biggest fan. No joke. I have all your albums and I saw you live in Chicago last year. You’re amazing!”

“Um. Thanks.” I rubbed the back of my head and glanced toward the stairs. I’d only come down to say hi and be friendly, but now things were getting awkward. “So you’re like…the cleaning guy?”

He laughed. “Oh, no. I’m the fill-in. I mean, I am…but the lady who was supposed to be here…I guess she’s in the hospital.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m not.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from frowning. That was bad for my complexion.

Oscar gasped. “Oh my god. I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant that if she hadn’t gotten sick, I wouldn’t be here. With you. At this job.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Great, now I sound like an asshole. I promise I’m not. I just get real talkative when I’m nervous and you’re…” He rose on the balls of his feet and plopped back down, grinning. “Well, you’re amazing. Hey, do you think you could sign my—”

“No,” Church barked behind me. Christ, I was so distracted by how weird Oscar was being that I hadn’t even heard him come through the back door. He marched up and slid between me and Oscar, arms crossed. “No autographs. And you need to step back. Now.”

Oscar arched an eyebrow. “We were only talking.”

“You’re not here to talk,” Church growled in a low voice that made butterflies flutter low in my stomach. “You’re here to clean. I expect you to show up on time, do your job, and leave. The employment contract you signed clearly outlined that you’re to stay six feet away from Mr. Deluca at all times. Back. Up.”

“Okay, okay!” Oscar raised his hands and stepped back. “I’ll finish cleaning and get out of your hair. It was nice to finally meet you, Dante!” He leaned around church and waved at me.

“Likewise.” I hurried around the corner into the kitchen, where I yanked open the freezer and shoved my head in. Why did it suddenly feel like it was a thousand degrees in there? Did someone turn up the heat? I yanked open the fridge. Why isn’t there anything to drink in this house? Fuck, I’d kill for a shot of vodka about now, just to take the edge off of whatever this weird feeling is.

“Dante?” I flinched as Church’s hand came down on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

I swallowed and shut the freezer. “Yeah. Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He scrunched up his face and gave me a look up and down. “Oscar makes you uncomfortable.”

“What him? Pfft. Nah.” I waved Church off.

“I’ll call the cleaning company and have them send someone else.” He got out his phone.

“No, wait!” I surged forward, my hands closing around his.

Church frowned and looked down at me, forehead wrinkled and lips pressed together in an overly concerned expression. All I wanted to do was put a hand behind his head, pull him down into a kiss, and tell him everything was going to be all right.

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