Page 15 of Arden and the Girl Downstairs

“I can drive myself, you know,” I argue, just for the hell of it. I know he’ll win, and honestly, I’m kind of glad he offered because my pain meds make me feel a little woozy sometimes, and I don’t trust myself to drive. I decide not to tell him that, though.

“I know you can, but I’d feel better if you’d let me drive you today,” he says, finishing his cookie and immediately reaching for another from theStar Warscookie jar on the bench. “Did you make these?” he asks between bites.

“I did, why?”

“Because they are really good. Don’t tell Martha I think I prefer these over her blueberry muffins, and everyone loves her muffins.”

That makes me laugh again. I’ve met Martha in passing—she isn’t the type of woman you tell something like that to.

“Your secret’s safe with me. Come on, Ralphie. I don’t want to be late.” I walk to the door and watch him snag another cookie for the road.

Note to self: make more cookies.

The trip to Grumpy’s goes quickly. “Hey, Ralph, how did you know so much about my need for help before you made your suggestion?” Suspicion laces my voice. Ralph was hardly in ear shot when I spoke to Arden at the bar, and until he showed up at my apartment two days ago, I hadn’t even spoken to him more than a hello here and there.

“I have my sources.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I have my sources,” he says with a wink as he opens the door to Grumpy’s for me to walk in first.

“You know that’s a little creepy, right?” I throw over my shoulder as I make my way to the bar.

“What’s creepy?” Chad asks, overhearing my comment.

“Ralphie here apparently has sources who told him info on me,” I deadpan.

Chad laughs. “You didn’t tell her?”

“Tell me what?” I eye them both.

“It never came up,” Ralph says, completely unphased by my rising annoyance.

I tap my foot and put a hand on my hip, glaring at him. “What never came up?”

Both men laugh, and Chad leans over the bar to give Ralph a fist bump. What the hell . . . they know each other?

I’m seething by this point.

“Relax, Ells, that baboon is my older brother.” Chad chuckles.

I look between them both, shocked.

“Wait, what? That’s how you know each other?”

“Unfortunately,” Chad answers, just before Ralph smacks him over the back of the head. “Ouch, what was that for?” He rubs his head and grimaces.

“For the baboon comment, shit head.”

“How did I not know you were related?” Seriously, how did I not know that? I’ve worked with Chad for over three years, and he never once mentioned Ralph, nor had I ever seen Ralph before he moved in with Arden and his friends.

“Like I said, it never came up,” Ralph says again.

“I feel like you lied to me, Ralphie, and here I was thinking we were becoming besties,” I pout and make my way behind the bar to climb up onto my bar stool.

Chad put the bar stool back here just for me. The other staff aren’t allowed to sit while working, but because I refuse to leave a shift—even if my uterus tries to kill me some days—Chad decided it would be easier to give me a chair.

Both men chuckle again. “I tried to warn you about her,” Chad tells Ralph.

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