Page 9 of A Perfect Match
Holy shit.I’m doing it.
I might be two hundred thousand dollars in debt, but I’m doing it.
I pull into the parking lot—safely away from the hotly contested curb cut—just as the first rays of dawn are creeping through the sky.I made it a point to get here extra early, because I need to have an uncomfortable conversation with Piper as soon as humanly possible.
I’m raw-dogging life right now, un-caffeinated and staring down a fourteen-hour day.But duty calls.I park my black pickup, and head around to the back of the building.Her shop is still dark, but I know she’ll be awake—at least I hope she will be—since her shop is due to open in a little over an hour.In the back alley, I size up the rotted staircase leading up to the apartment.I hope it’s not an indicator of what’s up there.I never got a tour of the apartment, just was promised that it was functional and in need of only “light repairs in line with the primary business space.”
So either a shit show awaits me or something extremely cute and bakery-esque like Piper’s shop.
Either way, it’s getting a face lift.While I’ve got the crew, I’m taking care ofeverything, no exceptions.
My footsteps gothud thud thudup the wooden staircase, and I’m worried the whole thing is going to break away as I knock on the door and wait.
I haven’t exactly practiced what I’m going to say to Piper.I know the words will come to me when I need them.Besides, kicking my new tenant out of her home isn’t a situation I can really ask any friends for guidance on.Per the advice of a lawyer I contacted, I made a formal written notice to kick off this awkward process.I scan the words on the sheet I brought along as I wait for her to show up.
There’s a rustle behind the door, and then it swings open.Piper’s head pokes out, her blonde hair damp and hanging heavy around her face.She’s hiding her body behind the door.“Oh, it’s you.”
“Good morning,” I say, wondering if I should smile.Be friendly.Buffer this bad news with a chat about the weather.
“What are you doing here?”Her scowl tells me to get to the point.That’s when I notice the water droplets gathering in the hollow of her neck.They highlight the light freckles I’d loved and lavished attention on during our impossible night.
I can barely keep the words from escaping me.“Do you remember me?”
“Of course I remember you.”Her brows nearly meet in the middle of her face.“You were blocking the sidewalk yesterday for like an entire year.What do you want?”
Everything inside me sighs heavily.She has to be lying.How could she not remember staying up to watch the sunrise on that hotel balcony?The thousands of kisses I’d given her, all over her chest, down her belly, between her legs.But now isnotthe time to get into it.
“I need to chat with you about a few things.”
“And you think while I’m fresh out of the shower, about to open my shop for the day, is the best time to do this?”
“I don’t know a better time,” I shoot back.
“Why don’t you schedule one?”she asks.
I swallow my annoyance.“Great.What would be a good time for you, Piper?”
“Well…” The expectant pause tells me she doesn’t have a name to insert there.
“You don’t know my name, do you?”
She sniffs, then shrugs.
“You can call me Kru.”
“Kru?”she says, her face scrunching up.“Like…the cabin crew of an airplane?”
I tilt my head, watching as she becomes lost in thought.
“Or maybe it’s like crew cut socks,” she adds.“Crudité?Is it French?No, it must be short for something else.Cruesome?Like the word gruesome, but, you know,you.”
I clear my throat, waiting until she’s good and done with the guessing.But she’s got more.
“Oh wait!”She snaps her fingers.“I know.You’re a chef, right?Your name is Crouton.That’s it.It’s short for crouton.Very on brand, Kru.”
“Are you done?”I ask.I’m amused, but I won’t let her know that.
“Yeah, I guess.Just tell me if I’m right?I feel like one of those is bound to be right.”
