Page 34 of Just One Fake Date

She closed her eyes again, picturing him in that chair. If he was misleading her about his evening’s interaction with Giselle, Shannyn told herself she didn’t care. Instead, she guessed the city was sparkling in all its nocturnal splendor beyond his windows and that the lights in his apartment were low. One of those books would be discarded on the coffee table. Maybe he’d have a drink poured, a finger of Scotch in a crystal glass, the glass catching the light from the crackling fire. Just for fun, she imagined Tyler in his briefs.

Nice view all around.

“Hello?” he said, making her realize she’d been quiet too long.

“Yes, it’s leaking. Quite spectacularly. I have a quote for the roof replacement but it’s more money than I have saved. If they sold lottery tickets for new roofs, I’d have a roll of them.”

“Thereby diminishing your ability to actually pay for the roof,” he noted, which was fair. “Give me an idea of how much money. I’ve never bought a roof. Well, not true. We had the roof redone on the building here, but it can’t be the same.”

Shannyn told him the estimate.

“No way.” His surprise was satisfying. “For a house?”

“Yes way. And yes for a house. I had another estimate that was higher but I shredded it and burned it to cinders.”

He seemed to be surprised still. “Is it a big house?”

“Not particularly.” She chose not to mention the turret, which had made the roofer guy shake his head. “I think installing a new roof is a labor-intensive process.”

“Where’s the house?”

Shannyn wrinkled her nose, knowing this was a variable, but reluctant to share anyway. What the hell. She took a breath and told him. “Flatbush.”

“All right, then.” Tyler exhaled. “The obvious answer is to add it to the mortgage.”

Shannyn shook her head even though he couldn’t see her. “Not possible.”

“Don’t you have any equity in the property?”

“Not much. And I don’t want the bank to take a closer look at the mortgage right now.”

He caught his breath and she knew he’d figured something out. “Spoils of war,” he echoed softly. “You’re divorced, separated or otherwise no longer living with a partner.”

Damn. This was the hazard of arranging a fake date with a perceptive money guy. Shannyn’s secrets didn’t have a chance.

Tyler was getting his wish about knowing more about her in a hurry.

But then, what did it matter? Cole was ancient history and not exactly a secret.

“Point to you,” Shannyn said, as if it didn’t matter.

Because it didn’t. Not anymore.

“And he had the better job or at least a steady paycheck,” Tyler guessed with startling accuracy. His voice changed and she could imagine him holding up a hand against an anticipated attack. She smiled, thinking of the training his sisters had given him. “Not because you necessarily don’t have the skills or connections to make good money, but you wouldn’t be worried about the bank and the mortgage unless he was the one with the regular paycheck. I mean, you are freelance—unless you have a day job, too.”

“No, I don’t. Just a whole array of side hustles.” Shannyn spun in her chair, feeling inexplicably lighter now that the truth was out. She might be secretive but she wasn’t dishonest. It felt better for Tyler to know the truth.

“Side hustles?” he echoed with obvious confusion.

“Things that generate some revenue but not enough individually to be my sole income. I’m freelance. There are gaps to fill.”

To Shannyn’s relief, he didn’t linger over that or make any pompous suggestions that she should get a ‘real’ job. He just accepted her financial reality, which was refreshing. “When does the mortgage come up for renewal?”

“In three years.”

“Have you missed any payments since things...changed?” His voice sharpened a little, but then, he was a money guy.

“No.” Shannyn was glad to be able to admit that, although it had been a feat. “I managed to pay an extra one last year...”

---