“A cleaning service,” I offer. “It’s actually perfect for me. I can make my own schedule, the mansions are empty almost a hundred percent of the time so I don’t have to see or talkto anyone and potentially piss them off, and I can listen to audiobooks or music while I clean. Oh, and did I mention the money is not only decent, but I can pick up as many houses as I want, which means I won’t spiral. See? It’s a win-win-win.”
“Sure it is,” she mumbles.
“Come on, Rore. I gotta find something to pass the time while you’re at school.”
“Promise me you won’t get fired,” she grumbles.
“Promise.”
“And you’ll put in a two weeks’ notice like a thoughtful human being before you pick up and leave again.”
I lift my hand despite Rory not being able to see me and reply, “Scout’s honor.”
She sighs. “When did you give them my name?”
“Right before I called,” I quip. “And after I bought my plane ticket. Any chance you can pick me up at the airport in a few hours?”
“If I say no, do you have the money for an Uber?”
“I think we both know the answer to that.”
Another sigh echoes through the speaker, and I know I’ve won her over.
“You owe me,” she mutters.
“Add another tally to the count,” I tease. “I’ll text you the details. You’re the best!”
I can hear the smile in her voice as she replies, “I know.”
And she really is.
When Rory mentioned she downsized,she wasn’t kidding. The place is tiny. There isn’t a couch. Or an actual bedroom. It’s a studio apartment with barely enough room for one person, letalone two. Add in Rory’s shadow, her demon German Shepherd, Hades, and the apartment is basically a can of sardines. Even so, Rory went the full nine yards in preparation for my visit. Twin beds are pressed against the walls on opposite sides of the room, and a television hangs on the end furthest from the front. It’s framed by a door leading to the bathroom, and a small, half-empty closet I have no doubt should be—and would be—full if I hadn’t called Rory, asking for a place to stay. Her clothes are lined up from pink to blue, creating a tiny rainbow with black and white fabric on both sides. Just like always. She hides it well. Most of the time, anyway. Her Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Most people throw the diagnosis around like confetti. Writing off their preference for cleanliness as a silly quirk, when OCD is so much more. It’s crippling. Consuming. And hits in the most random ways at the most random times.
“And here it is,” Rory announces, squatting down to undo the leash from Hades’ collar.
His tail whips my thigh, and I yelp in surprise as he dashes toward Rory’s bed, jumping onto the fluffy blue blanket covering the bottom half of the mattress.
“Sorry,” Rory says. “We’re still working on Hades’ manners.”
“He’s four,” I remind her. “Pretty sure that ship has sailed.”
“Hey, give him a little more credit!”
“You’re right. At least he didn’t try to bite my face off when I climbed into your car at the airport,” I tease.
She sticks her tongue out at me but doesn’t bother arguing. Rory’s family has owned German Shepherds ever since her dad gifted her mom a puppy when they were dating. The rest is history. And even though I’ve always been one of their favorite people, Hades doesn’t like anyone—and I meananyone—but Rory. Now, it doesn’t mean he attacks everyone who comes near her, despite my smartassery. Rory’s family spent thousands of dollars on training when her OCD became too much aftermoving away. But he has no problem making his feelings about you very clear, and I’ve yet to meet anyone other than Rory that he’s willing to warm up to. As Rory hangs up Hades’ leash on the hook next to the front door, I take in the olive green cabinets and wood block countertops that separate the kitchen from the rest of the living space. Yup. This place is absolutely adorable. From the blue and white striped linens on the beds to the fluffy white rug covering the maple colored floors.
Gorgeous.
Facing me, Rory asks, “So, what do you think?”
“I think you’re too good to me. Tell me you at least asked for help from…someone to swap whatever bed you had in here to two twins.”
She grimaces. “Am I that transparent?”
“Yes. Yes, you are.” Moving closer, I toss my arms around her shoulders and pull her into a hug. “And you’re also the best. Thank you for putting up with me. I promise to start chipping in for rent as soon as I get my first paycheck.”
She returns my hug, then lets me go. “I’ll always put up with you. And don’t worry about rent. I got it.”