Page 3 of 12 Days of Mistletoe

I know this is part of the job. I’m not afraid of that. If I could do it my way, I’d be fine. The girl has had plenty of warnings. It’s time to go. Again, this is where Gran and I see things differently.

It’s frustrating for sure, but I’m not going against Gran right now.

I don’t say as much because Q likes to tease me about my grandmother. And really, I don’t mind. I adore Gran. She might be my favorite person on the planet. I’m not ashamed of that.

But Q would use that against me.

Quinten: You could always send an official notice. Isn’t your brother-in-law a lawyer?

But Gran wouldn’t like that either.

Sure, I’ve got the tenant’s name—I’ve got everyone’s paperwork from when they moved in. I know that Bonnie F. Miller has lived in the building for three years—I’m guessing her apartment reflects that a dog has lived here for three years too.

And all at once, the thought has me angry. That means, for three years the woman has been taking advantage of the elderly. Just because my gran can’t be here every day to keep an eye on things the way she and Gramps once used to is no reason for someone to trespass on her kindness.

Quinten: It’s time to pay her a visit.

Me: You think?

I’ve wondered that, too, but I’m also trying to do things Gran’s way.

Quinten: Sure. She’s hot. And she’s definitely got a dog up there. Besides, it’s time.

Attractive women andtime. We both know he’s referring to Jess. And that’s a subject I don’t talk about. But then?—

Wait—

Me: What do you mean, she’s hot?

Quinten: Has it been so long? You’ve forgotten the term?

Quinten: You know, like, nice to look at—but on high.

Me: And how would you know that? You haven’t been to my new place.

Idon’t even know what Bonnie Miller looks like. Somehow our paths have never crossed. I’ve seen everyone else in the building. She must use the rear exit. I only know what her paperwork says. It tells me she turned twenty-six this year. And that she’s paid her rent by the second of every month. Not one month late. I can see why Gran isn’t eager to dismiss her.

But I don’t see how Quinten has any idea what the girl looks like.

Quinten: Instagram.

Me: Come again?

Quinten: You said her name one day. One of your rants in between classes. Bonnie Miller, right? I just added a few facts to her name in the search bar and I found your girl.

Me: Q. You didn’t. I’m no stalker. You’re looking her up?

Quinten: This girl is getting under your skin. I needed a visual.

He’s lost it.

Quinten: And it was a nice visual, man. You need an introduction. That—and FYI, in every photo she shows up in, she’s with a dog. Multiple dogs in some cases. She may have more than one up there.

“Did he say more than one?” My head goes hot—and not with thevisualQ is attempting to give me.

Me: Maybe you’re right. Time for a face-to-face.

Time for Miss Miller to stop taking advantage of kind little old ladies.

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