Mixed Emotions

by MIA HEINTZELMAN

  He let his head fall back to crack his neck, then drew in a breath and released it with a heavy sigh before it morphed into a theatrical groan. Stop thinking about Zora. He needed to get the image of her in that tight blue dress out of his system, and get himself into someone else’s if he was going to get anything done today.

  Mike slammed his desk drawer just as Everett twirled into his office. He was beaming. All week, he’d been unbearable, gloating about his Balinese vacation. Today, he was dressed in jeans and a turquoise, short-sleeved, Hawaiian button down—his fourth of the week. The others had been light green, lavender, pale yellow—each was as loud and obnoxious as his happy, carefree attitude.

  He strode by then stopped at the wall length window to strike his pose. “What do you think? Is the turquoise too much?”

  “Go ahead. Rub it in,” Mike said, biting back a grin. “Are you sure you should even be going? Isn’t Soph supposed to be on bed rest or something?”

  “Light activity, not bed rest. As in no heavy lifting or strenuous activity. Although, I have every intention of propping her feet up.”

  Everett was a cheesy fool. Then again, if a month of sandy beach days and bedded bliss lay ahead of him, Mike would probably be flashing a goofy smile, too,.

  Mike lowered his gaze back to the folder in front of him, shaking his head. “Please take all of that sunshine and rainbow stuff with you as you exit.”

  “Don’t be salty. Sophia and I need this vacation.” Everett pressed his hands down the front of the shirt smoothing the light fabric.

  “Yeah, I know. I’m just giving you a hard time.”

  “Plus, you and Zo are the ones who said you wanted more responsibility.” He mocked Mike in a low baritone. “’I need more challenge. Let me handle Arnold and the Chessington building.’” Then, Everett’s voice went up six or seven octaves as he imitated his sister. “‘Don’t worry about it, Sophia, the restaurant will be in good hands. I can do this job with my eyes closed.’”

  They both guffawed at his animated impressions.

  “Really? Is that how Zo and I sound to you?” Mike said, struggling to compose himself. The sound of her name on his tongue was sobering and dragged his mind back to his offer—still floating out there, unanswered.

  “In all seriousness, though, I know you guys can hold things down here and at Bite-Sized,” Everett said. “Sophia’s done pretty much everything to get the restaurant ready, but are you really good with Zo coming to stay with you?”

  No. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Two reasons.” Everett held up two fingers. “I know how you get in your savior mode trying to rescue everyone, and you beat yourself up thinking the worst will happen if you’re not right there acting as a human safety net. It’s okay, because I know why you’re like that, but this is nothing like what happened with your brother.”

  Mike lifted his chin, but he couldn’t control the way his arms hung loose by his sides. “Can we not go there? I just want to be available if she needs me, that’s it. What’s the second reason?”

  Everett seemed to hesitate as if he was contemplating whether or not to continue pressing Mike on the first reason. To Mike’s relief, he shrugged and continued.

  “All right, man, whatever you say. The other reason I’m wondering about my sister staying with you is because you just ended things with Kate. We both know you like to go sow your royal oats after you’ve been tied down too long. Is my sister going to get in the way with the ladies?” He averted his gaze like he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

  Mike had never told Everett about what he’d shared with Zora in the cellar, though, from time to time, he suspected he knew.

  “Nah. It’s cool. I probably won’t be home much anyway, not that it matters since she still hasn’t let me know one way or the other.” The bitterness he’d been holding at bay weaved its way into his words.

  Everett stared at him just a little too long.

  This time, it was Mike who looked away.

  Leave well enough alone, Ev.

  When the lecture he awaited didn’t come, Mike blew out a frustrated breath. “Stop worrying. You guys just go and relax. Enjoy each other. Take in the sites. We’ll be fine here.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Mike could feel the weight of Everett’s stare. He sensed this conversation still wasn’t over, and it was going to be up to him to end it.

  “No matter where she ends up staying, I’ll look out for her. And I’ll be fine as soon as you get me the zoning and land use reports I asked for an hour ago.” Mike snapped his fingers playfully, recalling the last items on his mental checklist. “Oh, and the commercial survey, too.”

  But Everett didn’t move. He seemed to refocus as a smile played on his lips. “Oh, I’m not worried about her. What I want to know is why you’re all bent out of shape?”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Is it my sister or the business because if it’s the business you don’t need to worry. I told you Arnold is a long-time family friend. Dealings between the Monroes and Arnolds go way back to my grandfather, so this meeting tomorrow is just a formality. He already accepted the terms of the offer, the comparative market analysis has been done, and we’ve agreed on a fair number.”

  “It’s not about Zora. What else has been done to prepare for this meeting with Arnold?”

  Everett paused, appearing to sense Mike’s reservations. “That’s it. What else do we need?”

  “Are the Arnolds anything like the Harmans? Do we have to take them down, too?”

  The past year or so, Everett and Sophia worked tirelessly to tie up all the loose ends after the Harmans tried to steal Patton Place. It was a perfect example as far as Mike was concerned. He didn’t believe in under the table, back room handshake deals based off of old loyalties. It didn’t stop Everett from trying to convince him , nor did it stop Mike from listing the merits of getting all their ducks in a row legally.

  “It’s just due diligence,” Mike said. “It’s what I do—checks and balances. Cuts out all the back-end work, so indulge me. If everything is on the up and up…”

  Everett threw his hands up in the air. “Have you always been this anal?”

  “Yes.”

  “Every item that you put on your little checklist is complete. All you have to do is show up, make sure he signs in the right places, and file them with the county.”

  Ev, you’re losing your edge.

  A thin, tight smile pulled at the corners of Mike’s mouth as he reclined in his chair. He steepled his fingers, tapping them against one another as he scrutinized Everett. Mike had successfully thrown him off his scent. He wasn’t worried about the business. If there was anything to be found, he would find it. Zora on the other hand, she was the reason he was bent out of shape.

  The blue dress swam across his mind again. “Then that’s what I’ll do,” he said.

  “Good.”

  “Right after I run a fine-tooth comb over the contract.” And jerk off in the restroom.

  Chapter Seven

  Zora

  “Arrived.”

  “Thanks, Baby,” Zora said to her GPS unit. It had a perky female voice, so she named after her favorite eighties movie character from Dirty Dancing. Also, she would never put Zora in the corner.

  She tapped the screen to end the route and looked over at the split-level home converted to a duplex in Centennial. It was within walking distance of the nature park. From the outside, it wasn’t half bad. It looked fairly decent. Based on curb appeal—well-maintained lawn, no shingles hanging from the roof, no weathered side panels from jousting the elements. It was booger green, though.

  Lord knows I should learn not to be so picky. No pun intended. Zora snorted. After she’d seen the house of horrors, the teensy she-shed, and the condemned shack earlier in the week, she just needed the last one to be livable enough to keep her out of Mike’s house.

  On the sidewalk, Zora took in the tree-lined s
treet with its single-family homes, heavy traffic, and high noise levels. The app said it was a mix of urban living and suburban quiet, but it pulsed with activity—a crazy amount of activity—even on a Thursday afternoon. Out of the side of her eye, she caught site of a tall guy with black hair, tons of tattoos, and rumpled clothes striding toward her.

  She tightened her key between her middle and ring fingers as she flashed him a tentative smile. She held her breath. Her heart raced as she fought the urge to run.

  “Hi,” she managed. Her voice was as shaky as she felt.

  He kept on walking, albeit with a rather creepy, lecherous look in his eyes. Zora swallowed back her panic. The guy could not have cared less about her. Freaking Oli with all of her “heads-up” information.

  This was her fault.

  “Ooh, Centennial,” she’d said. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea for a single woman living by herself. The crime rates out there are off the charts. And the noise levels... Please.”

  Zora shook it off and exhaled as she made her way to the door on the bottom level.

  The realtor Sophia recommended said she would be there early. With a deep breath, Zora placed her hand on the doorknob, which was…jiggly. And apparently, missing a screw or two.

  Ugh.

  Still determined to make this house work, she twisted it, opening the door, and immediately breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Thank. Goodness.”

  The place wasn’t exactly her taste, but it was clean and roomy. There were windows on every wall with light shining in from every direction, hardwood floors, granite countertops, a decent-sized kitchen, and a nook for her precious TV.

  She broke out into spirit fingers and was about to do her happy dance when she heard movement toward the back of the house.

  “Is that you, Zora?” her realtor asked.

  “Hi, Ellen.” Zora was still beaming. “If this place is as great as it looks, I’m going to owe you big time. I mean it’s not in the best area, but I think I can make it work for a month or so.”

  Ellen came out to greet Zora with a tight smile that failed to reach her eyes. “Okay, then. Let me show you around.” Ellen had hot pink rimmed glasses and leopard flats. She was a cute, trim little thing, but her soft-spoken, uptight demeanor didn’t seem to match her fashion sense.

  Zora thought she might have been a little more bubbly. It took spunk to pull of pink and leopard. But she wasn’t here for Ellen, she was here to find a place to hole up until her house was finished.

  It wasn’t forever.

  She winced at a crack in the ceiling with a small brownish, watery stain in the center, likely from a leak.

  It’s fine. Everything is going to work out.

  Determined to find the good in the quaint little duplex, Zora forced a smile and reminded herself of all its pros. Granted, it wasn’t the best house, but she could make it work. It was one of very few places with a month-to-month payment, so she wouldn’t be locked into a six-month or year-long lease requirement.

  So what if the doorknob is loose?

  Zora had a tool kit. Or, maybe she could change the locks if it was allowed. There was street parking and a washer/dryer, for goodness sake. If she felt unsafe, she could get some of those alarm system stickers.

  This was fine. Everything was going to be fine, and best of all, she wouldn’t have to stay with Mike.

  “It’s smoke-free and pet-friendly.” Ellen swiveled around when she noticed Zora hadn’t followed her. The plastered-on smile was back in full force. “The owner already pre-wired for an alarm system, which I recommend.”

  Zora nodded, taking her cue to follow along.

  The bedroom wasn’t huge, but it could fit her queen bed and one nightstand. The living area pretty much had her at the built-ins.

  So far so good.

  Ellen led her down the hall for a quick peek at the closet with the stacked washer and dryer before they got to the sole bathroom. Since only one of them could fit inside at a time, Zora sidestepped her way in and did a small turn toward the shower. The basin was kind of dingy and the caulking was cracked in several spots. She leaned in closer, squinting.

  “Is that—”

  “Bleach. All you need is a little bleach and it’ll be…fine.”

  Zora righted herself and met Ellen’s gaze. “It’s mold. Black mold.” She sighed and ran her fingers over her hair. “Bleach? I thought mold could make you very ill…ruin your lungs.”

  The realtor’s brows bounced, and, magically, the tight smile made its way back onto her face. Ellen didn’t disagree with her or try to deny that spores of a micro fungus that could shut down organs, incapacitate the immune system, or leave someone brain-dead were growing freely where she was supposed to bathe.

  Wow. What a selling point.

  Zora blew out a breath and shook her head. Okay, so that was one major setback.

  Maybe I can just get one of Ev’s contractors out here to take a look. It might not be that big a deal.

  Zora pivoted toward the toilet and flushed.

  “You just have to hold it down,” Ellen offered helpfully.

  When she did, the water went down quickly then made a gurgling noise as it struggled to refill itself.

  From there, the showing continued going downhill. The water came out of the faucet in temperatures ranging from iceberg to inferno. In the cabinet beneath the sink, there was a small leak along with five half-dead, twitching roaches and an intricate spider web that appeared to be in active use.

  Yay.

  As if the black mold, sketchy plumbing, jiggly doorknobs, and insect menagerie weren’t enough, her helpful realtor saved the kitchen for last.

  Not only did the stove gas line look like it was hotwired with red and green duct tape adhering it to the wall like a bomb waiting to go off, but a foul stench oozed from the malfunctioning refrigerator. Sadly, that wasn’t the worst of it. Zora practically hyperventilated when she discovered the rat’s nest inside the pantry closet.

  Under no circumstances was she going to pay one red cent to live in this death trap when an equally dangerous but free option was available.

  It took mere seconds for Zora to get out of that house, into her car, and head back home. She had just enough time to say goodbye to Everett and Sophia before they left for their trip later that evening.

  When Zora arrived, she found Sophia upstairs repacking her suitcase, and, apparently, waiting for her.

  “I’ll bet Mike’s house is looking really good right about now.” Sophia’s brows waggled as she rolled a pair of jeans and set it in her empty suitcase. Beside it, piled on top of the comforter was about a month’s worth of clothes.

  While she sifted through outfit options, Sophia explained that Ellen wasn’t just her realtor, she was also her very chatty friend. She’d already given Sophia the lowdown on the black mold hole. In fact, Ellen had kept Sophia and Everett abreast of all the properties Zora viewed. Given scarcity of suitable living options, they were right to assume she wouldn’t find a decent place on such short notice.

  So, Sophia took it upon herself to prepare strict instructions for Zora and Mike to refer to in her absence.

  “It’s over there on the dresser.” Sophia pointed across from the bed.

  “Right on top of that, Rose!” Zora joked, quoting Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead. She walked over and grabbed the list from beneath Sophia’s passport. Then something neon orange on the bed caught her attention. She pinched the fabric between her thumb and forefinger, lifting it up. “And what the heck is this?”

  “A bathing suit.”

  “Isn’t it the rainy season in Bali?” Zora’s brows braided together. “Plus, Soph, this is really skimpy.”

  Sophia paled, averted her gaze, and rubbed her belly. “Why don’t you just focus on the list?” she stammered, growing flustered.

  “I’m just saying.” Zora waved it off, deciding not to push the issue. She dropped her attention to the list.

  Num
ber one was pretty fair. Sophia’s and Everett’s phones would be in the hotel safe, and Zora and Mike were not to call unless someone was dying. Numbers two and three were the hotel information and the fumigation and repair schedules. The process was to begin Saturday, leaving Zora only one day to get everything she needed out of the house. Number four was all of Blue’s emergency contacts and feeding info.

  “I’ll put it right on Mike’s refrigerator, front and center,” Zora assured Sophia, tossing her a firm you betcha nod.

  Though Zora was poking fun, the last thing she wanted for Sophia was stress over stupid stuff—especially not anything concerning her and Mike. Sophia had already suffered the loss of one child. Zora couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to this one.

  Zora briefly skimmed over the final three items on the list. There was something about her restaurant Bite-Sized and real estate development. Then, Sophia had added a plea for Zora to unwind, enjoy Mike’s company, and get her cookbook underway. Zora didn’t read everything thoroughly, mostly because all she could think about was her impending doom.

  What’s Mike going to say? How will he act around me?

  Was it going to be as excruciatingly weird and awkward as game night? What if he ended up getting back with Kate? What was his kitchen like? The questions wouldn’t stop. Her head was exploding with a million “what ifs” and “hows.” Then, she landed on the worst question of all.

  Where am I going to sleep?

  While she was mentally breaking down, Sophia was still rambling on.

  The paper was shaking in her hands, so she set it back down on the dresser. She nodded a lot and tried to keep her breathing steady though she was literally freaking out. She was feeling so much like a teenager again, she wouldn’t be surprised if tomorrow morning she woke up with an acne breakout.

  “Is everything okay?” Sophia asked.

  “Yeah, you don’t look so good,” Everett said walking into the room. Of course, he wouldn’t miss a chance to give her crap when her life was going to hell in a handbasket.