Page 14 of Casita Casanova
Danielle laughs. “Do succulents count?”
I roll my eyes. I can keepanythingalive—except air plants and succulents.
The woman chuckles softly. “Wonderful. It’s been a pleasure. Thank you, ladies.” She hangs up before I can respond.
Or change my mind.
“Oh my God,” Danielle whispers.
I drop my hand and focus on the look of shock on her face. What’ssheshocked about? She did this!
“I can’t believe you just rented out the casita and got a job, all in one day.”
Breathing deeply, I blink a few times, trying to gather my thoughts.
“Everything is falling into place, MaRo.” She beams and I can’t help returning her smile.
Everythingisfalling into place.
But… what if heisa serial killer? It’s not like the woman on the phone would admit to it. He could be allkindsof horrible. A monster. And I have my daughter to consider.
“What is it? Your gears are turning.”
“What if he’s a creep, Dani?”
“He’s not.”
“We don’t know that.”
She shrugs. “You keep your door locked at night.”
I scoff. “And during the day?”
“During the day, you… carry a knife.”
“Danielle.”
She shrugs. “It’s five grand a month, babe. You can’t pass this up.” She shakes her head. “You can’t. You need this. Worst case scenario, you and Ribby come live with me for six months and pocket the money.” She shrugs. “Then, you move back when the dude’s gone.”
“That’s a terrible idea.”
“I disagree.” She shoves a chip into her mouth, then speaks around the mouthful. “I have a good feeling about it.”
“I’m glad one of us does.” I cross my arms and stare at her, but she knows I’m full of shit. I’m a crap liar.
Once she swallows her food, she says, “Everything is always working out for me.”
I roll my eyes, but repeat the words she’s been practically force feeding me for the past year. “Everything is always working out for me.”
Danielle grins, the smug asshole. “Good girl.”
With my brain still reeling from everything that just transpired, it takes me a moment to figure out one very important detail: “I don’t have a lease agreement.”
Danielle laughs. “Girl, that’s what the internet is for. Easy peasy. Next?”
Shaking my head, I use a chip to scoop up some salsa, then shove it into my mouth. My friend has a point. I downloaded a blank resumé template; why not do the same for this?
Now, if we can just get the casita ready, break the news to Ari that she’ll be sleeping on the pullout couch in the main house all summer, and—
