Page 19 of My Orc (Secret) Boss

Why was she living down there? And what should I do about it? Not just as her landlord, but as…as her friend?

Because Maya Locklear was my friend. The first real one I’d made in a decade. I worked for her—or maybe she worked for me, it was unclear—but at some point this week, I’d woken upand realized Iwantedto be with her. I wanted her to be in my space. I enjoyed my time with her and wanted more of it.

That sounded like friendship to me, right?

It had to be. That’s the only explanation for this weirdly unsettled feeling I got when she wasn’t around.

Speaking of which…I pulled out my phone to type,Still on for pizza?I didn’t like the delivery places on the island, so in the last few months, I’d learned to perfect the New York crust myself.

You know it. Give me a few to get cleaned up.

Today had been a dirty one; last night’s rain meant everything was muddy as we put the finishing touches on the boardwalk and prepared to switch over to work in the park next week. And I knew Maya had gone back to the shop, ostensibly to help lock up, but more likely to get cleaned up.

And since I knew she was living downstairs, Ialsoknew that severely limited her options.

My fingers slowly moved across the keyboard.

Hey, just throwing this out there. I have two working showers up here. If, you know, you ever needed one.

I swallowed and pressedsend.

The message clicked over toseen, but she didn’t respond. Instead, I heard a door slam downstairs, heard her running footsteps on the stairs, and was already stepping toward the door when I heard her pound on it.

I limped across the apartment and pulled it open to see—sure enough—Maya panting on the landing, holding her phone in front of her. “You know?” she blurted, fear in her eyes.

Trying to play it nonchalant, I shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s no big deal. I meant it about the shower.” She was still in her work pants, filthy t-shirt, and muddy boots. Her hair was covered in mud, for fuck’s sake.

Without thinking, I reached out and caught the tail of her braid. “You can’t get this out in a slop sink.”

She yanked it back, and I wondered if I’d stepped over the line. But instead, she drew the braid through her hand, then again, worrying it in what seemed to be a nervous motion, as she paced back and forth on the landing.

“I’m sorry, Memnon. I hope I wasn’t making it weird or keeping you up at night or something.”

“You weren’t.” I watched her pace, hating her agitation.

“It’s just that rent was?—”

I snapped upright. “Your rent is too high?” I didn’t need her rent; I’d kept her old rate just so no one would get suspicious, but I hadn’t even bothered to deposit her checks

She waved with the hand still holding the phone. “It’s not. I just couldn’t afford rent hereandrent on my apartmentandto pay you.” She whirled to me, concern on her face. “I mean, it’snotyour fault, I just needed to save enough money for this first month that I could pay whoever I was going to hire. After this first job, I’ll have enough stocked away to pay an employee—it doesn’t have to be you! Gah, I’m making a mess of this.”

She’d moved in downstairs to save money to pay me? The irony was that the rent she was paying wasalreadygoing to me.

“Hey, hey, Blossom.” I reached out and snagged her wrist as she paced by. Beneath my fingers, her pulse jumped. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

She needs your help.

Her eyes had gone wide, and I saw her breath catch.

Then, in one sudden surge, she threw herself at me, wrapping one arm around my neck and pressing her cheek to my chest. “Youcan’ttell the landlord, okay, Memnon? I’msosorry to put you in this position, but if you tell him, he’s going to kick me out, and I won’t be able to afford to pay you.”

You don’t have to pay me.

You don’t have to pay rent.

I can’t keep it a secret becauseI’mthe damn landlord.

I could have said any of those things. But what came out was, “It’ll be okay, Blossom. You can stay with me.”

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