Page 30 of Positively Pricked
"I'm getting a little tired of being your secretary."
Next to me, Charlotte muttered, "Good thing, since you suck at it."
I turned to my sister. "Charlotte, please. You're not helping."
Across from us, Paisley threw up her arms. "You know what? Screw this shit." She elbowed her way between me and Charlotte and then kept on going, heading toward the front door.
I didn't try to stop her. Why bother? It was pretty obvious that she wasn't going to pay up, at least not right now.
I looked to Charlotte. I adored my little sister, and I was fully aware of how lucky I was that she cared enough to stick up for me. But still, I had to say it. "You promised to stay in the kitchen."
She gave me a shaky smile. "Iamin the kitchen." She pointed toward the kitchen counter. "See?"
I sighed. "You know what I mean."
"Oh, all right," she muttered. "But she was a total bitch to you." Charlotte's tone softened as she added, "And in a way, this is all my fault."
I shook my head. "It's not your fault. It's Paisley's."
Still, I knew what Charlotte meant. Paisley was the sister of Charlotte's ex-boyfriend. This connection was how Paisley and I had become roommates in the first place. It all happened just seven months ago, when I'd found the perfect rental house,thishouse in fact, a cute little two-bedroom in a decent neighborhood with lots of old, stately trees.
The house even allowed pets.
In my dreams, I had time to grill hamburgers in the shaded back yard and walk a cute little fuzzball of a dog to the nearby park. In those dreams, I couldalsoafford plenty of dog food and the occasional vet bill.
But reality had turned out to be so very different.
Now, I could barely afford food for myself, much less medical care of the human variety. Good thing I was healthy, or I'd be really screwed.
And here, my roommate – someone recommended by my own sister – had turned out to be a deadbeat drama queen.
As if reading my mind, Charlotte said, "She was a lot nicer before. Honest."
I gave Charlotte a look. "And how many times did you meet her?"
"I dunno." Charlotte glanced away. "A couple."
I didn't push the issue. In reality, it was mostlymyfault, not Charlotte's.
To think, I'd actually believed Paisley's assessment of her prior roommate. Supposedly, the former roommate had been, in Paisley's words, a total downer.
Since I was on the cheerful side, it sounded like Paisley and I would be a perfect fit. Now,I'dbecome the downer – the one who nagged about the rent and griped about the groceries.
Still, I tried to look on the bright side. I'd finally gotten my phone messages. That was something, right?
The crumpled notes were still in my hand. I looked down and scanned the top one. It had only three words.Charlotte. Noon. Tomorrow.
Charlotte snatched the note and gave it a quick read. "Talk about vague," she said. "It doesn't even say where. I mean, what if I were meeting you for coffee or something? I'd still be there waiting."
I tried to laugh. "And I'd still home be in my jammies."
In unison, Charlotte and I looked down to my sweatpants. I couldn’t help but recall Paisley's snide comment. Oh sure, it was easy forherto talk when she spentherrent money on herself, while I spent mine on, go figure, actual rent.
Pushing that thought aside, I glanced down at the second note. It took me only a split second to read it. And yet, I felt compelled to read it again, and then a third time afterward.
I was shaking my head. This note was even more concise than the first. In fact, it had only two words. But they packed a wallop.
You're fired.
