Page 3 of The Arrangement
“That’s ladylike,” she teases. “Go out this weekend and swallow like that at the bar. You won’t be single for long.”
I laugh, nearly choking on the last bit of blueberry muffin. “Stop it.”
“No, I won’t stop it until I’m satisfied that you remember that you’re a whole person who deserves love and affection and a big hard cock.”
I wipe the corner of my eye with a napkin and try to rein in my laughter.
“Do you have a secret boyfriend?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m starting to think you do. It’s the only answer that makes sense.”
“Trust me. If I had a boyfriend, you’d be the first person to know, so you’d shut up about it.”
She nods, smiling in satisfaction.
It’s easier with Nickie to pretend I’m not interested in dating at all. I once made the mistake of being open to the idea, and she came to work the following morning with a photo album on her phone filled with men she thought might be a good match for me. That morning, I learned that Nickie is a one-woman matchmaking company. She memorized their bios and statistics and rattled them off like a game show host.
It was as impressive as it was alarming.
But the truth is that I’m not anti-dating. I’m anti-relationship.Anti-marriage. When coupled with the fact that I only attract men who I’m not interested in and that I have zero free time thanks to a mountain of debt that’ll wind up crushing me at some point—my life is lonely.
I’d rather it be lonely than miserable.
“You have to make time for what’s important to you,” she says.
I hold up the muffin wrapper and grin. “I made time for this little nugget today, didn’t I?”
She groans, making me laugh.
“Look, my neighbor’s grandson is coming to town this week,” I say. “Thomas and I have a little friends-with-benefits thing going on, which will hold me over for a while. It’s the best I can do.”
“That’s absolutelynotthe best you can do.”
“Even if I wanted to meet someone—which I don’t—there’s no time. During the week, by the time I get home, I’ve been gone ten hours, and I’ve started picking up shifts at Fika’s if someone calls off in the evenings. I also need to spend time with Mimi since she’s alone at our apartment all day—which I feel terrible about, by the way. I barely have time to bathe and sleep, and I feel guilty when I do that.”
“Feeling guilty for taking care of yourself is ridiculous.”
I shrug. “I’m struggling right now thanks to a crap ton of debt, sky-high rent, and trying to keep Mimi out of a nursing home—all while managing not to get offed by the nasty guy on the first floor of my apartment building.” I pause while Nickie glares at me. “But my life is built on a precarious set of needs that must be met, and mine must be last right now. And that’s okay. It won’t always be this way.”
“I told you the Pliny Building wasn’t safe.”
“And I told you the Pliny Building is cheap. Get over it.”
“What does the cost matter if you wind up dead?”
“Listen,” I say, “choices were made. I could starve to death and live somewhere nicer or take my chances with the guy in 1B.” The memory of the slimy prick who lives conveniently by the exit, so I must pass him every time I leave the apartment, makes me shiver. “Getting whacked is faster and less depressing, and at least I’d go out on a full stomach.”
She makes a face. “That’s not funny.”
I chuckle, tossing the muffin wrapper on the table. “Relax. I’m kidding.”Kind of.
She blows out a breath, wanting to cling to this conversation. But the look on my face must convince her otherwise.
“I was asking about the meeting this morning because of the gossip going around the building today,” she says. “Did you hear the rumors?”
“I generally try to avoid them.”
“Well, you might want to hear this one.”
I lift a brow.
