Page 16 of Just a Friend for the Lion
That’s for fairy tales and fools.
Still, I squeeze the phone in my hand.
Buzz.
Another notification.
I check again.
Still nothing.
“Damn you, Uncle Uzzi,” I growl,tossing my phone onto the passenger seat of the nearest car like that’ll help.
It doesn’t.
All it does is leave me wondering if fate is playing with me, or if I just missed my shot.
Chapter 6
MJ
Later That Night
Everything is quiet now.
Too quiet.
No more laughter echoing up the stairwell.
No more shouting over who used the last of the oat milk or whose turn it is to mop the kitchen.
No sisters camped out on the couch with wine and questionable taste in reality TV.
Just me.
Alone.
Again.
I slide the lock on the door, toe off my sneakers, and let out a long breath as I kick my way toward the fridge in the tiny apartment above Pizza Girls.
You’d think my place would smell like dough and sauce and roasted garlic—but it doesn’t. This building’s ventilation system is amazing, and the smell of the pizzeria doesn’t reach upstairs.
Instead, I’ve got a glass bowl of cinnamon apple potpourri by the door, and when I step inside, it greets me.
Comforting, warm, familiar.
Horace arranged this place for me a year ago when the lease on the old house was finally up.
Said I deserved a space of my own. I scoffed, but Carina insisted. My brother-in-law apparently owned a stake in this apartment building, and he worked it out so this place is now mine.
Not bad. Three bedrooms, though I use one as an office. Two full baths, living room, eat-in kitchen.
Then Doug and Dina added one of those fancy electric fireplaces in the corner, “for ambiance,” they said with a wink when the four of them moved me in and handed me the keys.
God, I love my family. My sisters’ mates? They’re great. Just like real big brothers.
We’re close knit and that’s good with Carina and Horace expecting a new baby and Dina and Doug traveling so much now that her art is starting to take off.
