Page 13 of Houston, We Have a Problem
“And you said you have another sister?”
I frown. “A half-sister.”
Why does it look like she’s cataloging that information away in her brain? Maybe I’m being paranoid after a week of press releases and interviews. Darcy doesn’t even know who I am, and she’s probably just trying to figure out her weirdo of a landlord.
Speaking of… I cough, struggling up to my feet like an old man.Not a fan of that. “I’ll get some replacement light bulbs tomorrow for the basement. I think the last tenants were using it as a photo development room.”
At least, Ihopethat’s what they were doing. It doesn’t explain all the purple paint, but that thankfully came off the cement. Maybe I’ll also check out flooring samples tomorrow while I’m at the hardware store and see if that’s something I’ll be able to install myself. It’ll give me something to do other than suffocate beneath the crushing weight of my ever-increasing dread.
“Do you guys need anything else tonight?” I ask.
Darcy shakes her head, still looking at me curiously. Maybe she’s just tired like I am. She did just unload her truck after driving all the way from…wherever.
I stand there for a minute, unsure if I should be doing anything else for the two of them. The last tenants moved in in the middle of the night and always stuck their rent checks through the mail slot, so I genuinely have no recollection of what they look like. In the year they lived next door, I saw them only a few times, and always at strange hours.
“I’m next door if you need anything,” I say, “but just in case, let me give you my number.”
Darcy looks a little too excited about that, so maybe I haven’t lost my game as much as I thought, though it’s not like I actually want to date my tenant. Even if she does eagerly hand over her phone.
That would be a bad idea.
I add a little caveat before heading back to my place: “Text me ifthe houseneeds anything.”
I have too much to deal with right now to be thinking more about my attractive new next-door neighbor than I already am.
Chapter Seven
Darcy
Oh, the things I coulddo with Houston’s phone number. There are probably only a handful of people who have this number, and to know I’m one of them has me feeling a whole lot of feelings I probably shouldn’t be feeling. Especially because I shouldn’t be awake right now, staring at my neighbor’s contact info. It’s the dag nab middle of the night, and I should absolutely be getting as much sleep as I can before I start planning out my approach with Houston.
What does it mean that he trusted me with his phone number so easily? Maybe he was required by law, as my landlord. Maybe he has a phone strictly for work purposes. Maybe the way he stared at me during our living room dinner on the floor was more than just curiosity.
As vain as it sounds, I’m used to people staring at me. AsTamlin. As Darcy, I get the occasional notice, but no one usually takes the time to study my face like they’re mapping it out. Houston Briggs, on the other hand, spent a good three minutes watching me until Jesse, being the good fake brother that he is, silently called him out on it. I have no idea what to do with Houston’s attention. I don’t think he was trying to imagine me as Tamlin, or he wouldn’t have given me his number. (I should probably praise Jesse for his makeup magic tomorrow.) He was definitely looking for something, though.
But what?
Groaning, I slip off of my mattress, which is currently on the floor because I was too tired to build my frame last night, and creep out of my bedroom. Jesse’s snoring softly across the hall, and I’m pretty sure he could sleep through a tornado. He once went with me to cover a hockey game after working a multi-reporter gig the day before and slept through several alarms. Ihad to convince hotel security that there was a health hazard so they would let me in to shake him awake. So, I don’t have to worry about waking him if I go down to the kitchen and find myself a snack.
There’s not much down here yet—Jesse offered to grab some groceries tomorrow when he turns in the truck and picks up our rental car—but I grab some leftover sweet and sour from the fridge and head out onto the back patio, planting myself on the steps. It may be October, but New Mexico’s dry heat lingers differently from Missouri’s humidity. It’s still cool, but in a pleasant way. Plus, there are about a million more stars here, and I’m captivated within seconds.
Stargazing, however, leads to a good deal of thinking, and it doesn’t take long before I figure out why I can’t sleep.
This is the strangest job I’ve ever done, and I literally have no idea what I’m doing. Yesterday was a fun bit of make-believe, pretending I was back in college, moving into the dorms for the first time. Just like then, just like it’s always been, it was me and the guys, the ones who quickly realized I had more in common with them than I did with my fellow girls. Jordan was easy to befriend, and I can imagine he hangs around here a lot with the way he interacted with Houston. I’ll be glad to have him as a buffer sometimes because there was only so much pretending I could do with his friend.
Houston Briggs. He honestly surprised me yesterday by helping us move everything even though that’s not part of his duties as landlord, and he spent a lot of time laughing and joking with Jordan throughout the afternoon. Like a regular guy. Not like a guy who is hiding some big story for me to find.
What in the world am I supposed to do with him? Whatever Connor is looking for, he thinks Darcy can find it, but I don’t know the first thing about espionage. When I’m Tamlin,no one ever questions what I’m after. Sure, I’m pretending to be someone I’m not, but I never lie to people.
Being around Houston as Darcy—as myself—is going to feel so much more dishonest, and I’m worried that my whole life here in Sun City, no matter how short, is going to feel like a lie. That means my budding friendship with Jordan is a lie. If I ever meet Brooklyn, like Jordan wants me to—I’m pretty sure those two are dating and Houston either doesn’t know or doesn’t like it—that relationship will be a lie too. The only reason I’m here is to get the scoop on Houston, whatever that may be, and then I’ll be gone.
Is a job really worth compromising my integrity?
As if the universe is determined to answer my silent question to the stars, my phone buzzes with a text. It’s almost four in the morning in Pennsylvania, so why in the world is Carissa awake?
Carissa: I interacted with my first patient yesterday! He was the cutest old man who just had a knee replacement, and he is so determined to walk that he just went for it and basically tackled me trying to stay on his feet. It was AWESOME.
I still don’t know why she’s awake, but I smile anyway. My little sister just started her internship with a physical therapy clinic.
