Page 33 of The Boss I Can't Stand
Ro’s face crumpled like she was about to cry. “You’re the freaking best, you know that?”
“I know. And no tears.”
“I’m not crying,” she said, voice thick. “I’m gonna make sure Finn is the best damn roommate you’ve ever had. And that he doesn’t give you a hard time.”
“Or he’ll have to deal with you?” I teased.
“Yes. And I won’t be as nice as you.”
“I’m not nice.”
Ro hummed. “You’re way too nice. Especially to losers like Trey who never deserved you in the first place.”
I rolled my eyes. Trey was super competitive in a lot of ways, especially when it came to arguing, and I got used to just letting him win because I honestly didn’t care enough to be bothered.
And yet all I seemed to do was argue with Finn.
Which I guess meant that, unlike with Trey, part of melikedarguing with Finn. I was loath to admit it, but I almost looked forward to it. There was just this energy between us I couldn’t help enjoying.
“This must be the building,” Ro said as the moving truck turned into a parking lot at the foot of a massive tower.
“Looks like it,” I said, pulling into a visitor’s parking spot. For a beat, we both just sat there ogling the giant slate gray structure.
“Should we go up?” Ro asked.
“Guess so,” I said, turning off the engine. Ro followed me into the lobby of the building, where the concierge said he’d been expecting me. He put one of the elevators on service for the movers to start loading boxes and directed me to another elevator.
I used the key fob Finn had sent over to access the penthouse unit. Once we’d arrived at the top floor, we stepped out into a hallway with only one door.
“Guess you’re not really gonna get to know the neighbors,” Ro joked.
“Should I knock?”
Ro shook her head. “You live here now.” And with that, she grabbed the door handle and gave it a push. It opened to reveal a sea of luxury. Everything was white marble and dark hardwood floors and shiny glass windows.
“It’s even more gorgeous than I expected,” Ro whispered.
We walked inside. The place was pristine. I slipped off my shoes, afraid of scuffing up the floor.
“Okay, either the guy employs some crazy-amazing cleaners or he’s just a neat freak,” Ro said. “Even his coffee table books are perfectly placed.” I remembered him adjusting the fabric bolts at the store. Definitely a neat freak.
It felt more like a model home. It was beautiful, but it could use some pictures or fresh-cut flowers or a throw blanket on the couch to prove that someone actually lived here.
“If you’re looking for me, I’ll be over here picking my jaw up off the floor,” Ro said, walking toward the giant floor-to-ceiling windows to check out the view.
Before I could respond, the movers showed up with my first load of boxes. “Where do you want these?”
“Oh, um…” Finn had told me I was staying in the guest room, but I had no idea where that was in this place. “Just here I guess.” He dropped the load in the middle of the living room and set off for another. I grabbed a box of perishables I’d packed in a hurry this morning—mostly the dairy Ro’s lactose-intolerant self would never eat—and carried it into Finn’s fancy kitchen. I opened the fridge with my sleeve over my hand, afraid to leave fingerprints on the door handle as I plunked my milk and cheese and yogurt onto the shelves. Judging by the neatly arranged rows of oat milk and vitamin water, I could tell I’d just messed up Finn’s perfectly organized system.
“That’s not where the dairy goes.”
I gasped, almost whacking my head on the fridge as I whirled around. Finn eyeballed my good-old two-percent carton with disdain. “Move,” he said, waving me out of the way, grumbling as he adjusted everything. He opened my container of yogurt and sniffed. “Is this even good anymore?”
“It expires today.” I yanked it out of his hands. “I’m still eating it.”
He looked appalled at the thought of almost-expired goods in his fridge and cleared space around the container as I replaced it.
“It’s not a biohazard,” I said, rolling my eyes.
