by Jae
“No, no, everything’s wonderful. You’ll have to excuse my sweetie.” Steph patted Rae’s arm with her free hand. “She can’t help it, you know? Once a cop, always a cop.”
What the fuck? She hadn’t told Steph she’d been on the force. How had she known? Even the comedy club rumor mill couldn’t work that fast. And why would she comment on it like that?
Steph gave her another loving pat. “Sweetie, you look like you’re serving a search warrant.”
It was only then that Rae realized she had flattened herself against the wall and was peeking around the doorjamb to gaze through the glass sliding door. Damn. Old habits really did die hard. To the landlord, she probably looked more like a police officer searching a suspect’s apartment than a potential tenant.
At Steph’s words, the confused expression on his face faded. He gave Rae an appreciative look. “Oh, you were a cop?”
Rae consciously tried to relax her stance by leaning into Steph’s semi-embrace. The warmth against her side felt the same way holding Steph’s hand had earlier—pleasant yet strange at the same time. “Yes,” she said as lightly as she could. “Fourteen years.”
“Impressive. You must have made captain or something.”
She shook her head. “Didn’t like the paperwork or the politics. I was always happiest out there, patrolling my beat.”
“Well, I’m sure the other tenants will appreciate having someone down the hall who’ll keep an eye on the building,” Mr. Kleinberg said.
Keep an eye. His wording made Rae suppress a grimace.
Steph sent him a hopeful gaze. “Does that mean we’ll get the apartment?”
He smiled at them. “Well, there’s another couple coming to look at the apartment later today, but to be honest, I’d really like to give it to you. Provided your credit and background checks and references check out.”
“They will,” Steph said firmly.
“Well, then let’s get the formalities out of the way.” He slid a pen from his pocket and laid it down on the breakfast bar, next to an application form.
Within minutes, they had filled out the application and were back outside, with a promise from Mr. Kleinberg that he’d get back to them by Tuesday.
“Yes! I think we did it!” Steph threw her arms around her.
Rae stiffened.
“Oh, sorry.” Steph let go and stepped back.
Rae waved away her apology. Her focus was on something else. “How did you know?”
“That we’d get the apartment? I had a feeling. I mean, who can resist this charming face?” Steph pointed at her grinning visage.
“Not that. That I’m a cop.” Rae bit her lip. “Was a cop.” Realizing that she no longer had a right to claim that title still hurt as much as the day she’d had to give up her job.
“Sounds like you’re missing it,” Steph said. “So why did you leave?”
Rae waited until she had safely navigated down the stairs and stepped onto the sidewalk before she answered. “Long story.” That had become her standard answer because it usually got people to back off. Having her story spread all over the newspapers and the Internet had been bad enough; she had no desire to share it with anyone else. “So, how did you know that I used to be on the force?”
“It’s kind of obvious when you know what to look for. I used to have a boyfriend who taught me how to spot a cop, and when I saw you checking out the apartment, I remembered how you sat with your back to the wall earlier, watching the front door, and I put two and two together.”
Rae raised her eyebrows.
“Yeah, boyfriend. I’m bi.”
Rae didn’t care if Steph was bi, gay, or straight. That wasn’t why she’d raised her brows. “Sounds like you’re into bad boys.”
“And bad girls,” Steph added with a grin.
“Good to know your type. I’m definitely safe, then.”
“Yeah, don’t worry.” Steph patted her arm as they made their way down the street. She didn’t even seem to notice that she was once again touching Rae. “I won’t try to sneak into your bed at night or join you in the shower.”
Rae nearly choked on her own spit and tried to ignore the interesting images those words conjured up. One thing was sure: living with Steph wasn’t going to be boring.
CHAPTER 4
Early Tuesday evening, Steph was getting ready to head out to a gig at a bar in Echo Park, where she’d have to compete with the Lakers game on TV and get handsomely paid in wings and beer. But at least it would give her some stage time, which was hard to find in LA. She was just about to grab her T-shirts and some of the other merchandise to make at least a few bucks when her phone rang.
A glance at the screen showed that it was Mr. Kleinberg.
Steph dropped onto the bed in her sister’s guest room and accepted the call. “Hi, Mr. Kleinberg. Please tell me you’ve got good news.”
He chuckled. “Good evening. Yes, I do. Everything checked out. The apartment is yours, if you still want it.”
“Of course we want it!” Steph didn’t bother to sound as if she had a lot of other prospects. “Thank you so much. When can we sign the lease?”
“How about Friday at six? My wife would like to meet you too before we hand over the keys.”
“Sure. Works for me.” Steph paused. Damn. As someone involved in a relationship, she was supposed to take her partner into consideration, wasn’t she? Must be why I’m single. “Um, I mean, Rae usually works evenings. I’ll have to check with her to see if she can get someone to cover for her.”
“Just let me know,” Mr. Kleinberg said.
“Will do. Thanks again.” Steph said goodbye and ended the call. She ran out of the guest room, did a victory dance, and cheered as if she’d won a gold medal. If apartment hunting in LA were an Olympic discipline, she had definitely landed a spot on the winners’ podium.
Claire stepped out of the kitchen, an immaculate white apron tied around her waist. “I take it that little display means you got the apartment?”
“Yes!” Steph pumped her fist. “If all goes well, we’ll be able to move in this weekend. Then I’ll be out of your hair, and you and Lana can go back to having sex on the kitchen table.” She loved making her prim-and-proper sister blush, and Claire didn’t disappoint.
“We’re not…doing that. Lana just loves to tease me about it because one of the chapter headings in my book is Sex Begins in the Kitchen.”
“Oh, chapter heading. Is that what they call it nowadays?” Then she took mercy on her sister. “Hey, are you and Lana free this weekend to help me get my furniture out of storage and set everything up at the new place?”
Lana appeared in the doorway to the kitchen and traded a gaze with Claire in that silent-communication way they had. “We’re free. I’ll even make sure Claire is wearing proper moving attire. When I moved in with her, she lugged around boxes in an elegant blouse and a pair of tailored slacks.”
Steph laughed. She could see her sister showing up in her shrink costume on moving day. Maybe she should write a joke about it for her routine. “Thanks. I’ll let you know as soon as I know more.” She grabbed her merchandise from the guest room and glanced at her wristwatch as she walked to her car.
Was Rae already at work? She decided to try anyway and leave a message if Rae didn’t pick up.
After three rings, Rae picked up. “Yeah?” The sound of her heavy breathing filtered through the phone.
What on earth was Rae doing? “Hey, this is Steph. Did I catch you at a bad time? Are you at work?”
“No, today’s my day off. Just working out.” Something metal clanked, as if Rae had set down a dumbbell.
Steph curled her fingers more tightly around the phone as she imagined a sweat-dampened shirt clinging to Rae’s chest and shoulders.
“So?” Rae drawled when Steph remained silent for too long.
“Oh, sorry.” Steph shook her head to get rid of those images. Of all the sexy, single people in LA, Rae was pretty much the only one she shouldn’t be thinking about like this. Never shit where you eat, remember? But that didn’t mean she couldn’t tease and flirt a little. “Are you free for a hot date on Friday evening at six?”
A growl rumbled through the phone. “Stephanie…”
Steph winced and grinned at the same time. “What? You, me, Mr. Kleinberg, and his wife.”
“Is this your way of telling me we’ve got the apartment?” Rae asked.
“Yes. Just got the call.”
If Steph had expected her to cheer, she was mistaken. “Good,” Rae said calmly.
“Good? That’s all you have to say? Hey, you get to move in with me. Come on, show some enthusiasm!”
“Yay,” Rae said in the most monotone voice possible.
“No wonder you’re single if you think that’s enthusiasm.” Steph let a teasing tone enter her voice. When she reached her car, she unlocked it but didn’t yet climb in. “So, about Friday… Mr. Kleinberg wants to meet at six to sign the lease. Can you make it?”
Rae was quiet for a moment. “I’ll make it work.”
“Great. Listen, I have to go. I have a gig in Echo Park, and traffic’s probably going to be a bitch.”
“Good luck. See you Friday.” Rae hung up without waiting for a reply.
Steph stared at her phone. Her roommate apparently wasn’t one for small talk. Oh well, it didn’t matter. Steph hadn’t come back to LA to make new friends; she’d returned to break through in comedy. At least Rae wouldn’t distract her from that goal.
Was this touching thing contagious somehow? On Friday evening, Rae peered down at Mrs. Kleinberg and tried not to let her dismay show as the landlady hooked her arm through Rae’s and led her from room to room, ignoring the fact that they had seen the apartment already.
“Harold and I tend to stay out of our tenants’ business, but if you ask me, I’d make the smaller room the bedroom and turn the bigger one into an office or a hobby room. After all, all you’re going to do in the bedroom is sleep, so you don’t need much space in there.”
Steph opened her mouth, a mischievous smile on her face.
Rae sent her a sharp glare. Don’t say it. Don’t.
Still grinning, Steph closed her mouth.
Mrs. Kleinberg patted Rae’s arm. “The kitchen would look quite nice with semi-transparent curtains that let plenty of light in, don’t you think?”
Christ. Would she have to go through more touching and interior design tips in every room before they could finally sign the lease? She would rather take an entire shift of doing nothing but waiting for speeders or writing reports. Mrs. Kleinberg had taken hold of her left arm, and no matter how much Rae hated having people on that side, she couldn’t shake her off without appearing rude.
Mr. Kleinberg gave his wife an indulgent look and didn’t seem inclined to stop this torture anytime soon.
Steph walked over. “Oh, honey?”
With a start, Rae realized she meant her. Apparently, Rae was as bad at pretending to be in a relationship as she had been actually being in one. “Yeah?”
Steph slid neatly between Rae and their landlady. “Could you take a look at the bathroom to see if you think my little corner shelf will fit? You’re so much better at taking mental measurements.” She gave Rae a look so loving that Rae wondered why she was striving for a career in stand-up instead of acting.
“Oh, yeah, sure…um, honey.” Rae hurried off, hoping she looked like a dutiful girlfriend and not like an introvert trying to escape an overly friendly woman.
“Want me to help?” Mrs. Kleinberg called after her. “I think we have a tape measure somewhere, don’t we, Harold?”
Oh shit. Rae threw a look over her shoulder and forced a smile. “Thanks. I’ve got it.”
Mrs. Kleinberg moved to follow anyway, but Steph hung on and drew her away to the living area. “All I need is a guestimate for now. We’ll measure everything later. But I have a question, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, dear,” Mrs. Kleinberg said. “Ask away.”
Phew. Rae fingered her collar and breathed more freely as she hid out in the bathroom for a moment. As relieved as she was to have escaped Mrs. Kleinberg’s clutches, now she owed Steph, and that was a feeling she didn’t like, just as she hated being the damsel in distress.
That was what Steph had intended, right—rescuing her from Mrs. Kleinberg? Because if she truly needed mental measurements for a corner shelf, she was out of luck. Judging distances and measurements was no longer one of Rae’s strengths.
“Ms. Jones, the previous tenant, mentioned that you don’t rent to singles,” Steph’s voice drifted over from the living area. “Not that it matters to us, of course. I’m just curious.”
Mrs. Kleinberg sighed. “We had a series of unpleasant experiences—the tenants before Ms. Jones were two roommates who liked to party all night, disturbing their neighbors. We had to call the police several times. Then there was a single tenant in a downstairs unit who brought home strangers who damaged the apartment and another who fell in love with an ex-convict and let him move in without our permission.”
Reluctantly, Rae left the bathroom and rejoined them.
Steph immediately wrapped one arm around her as if she had missed Rae during the few seconds of her absence.
“In our experience, couples are usually more settled,” Mrs. Kleinberg added. With a smile, she pointed back and forth between them. “I mean, look at the two of you. I’m sure we won’t have to constantly check up on you to make sure you’re not tearing up the carpets or tossing cigarette butts from the balcony.”
Rae slung her arm around Steph too and faced Mrs. Kleinberg with her best reliable-ex-cop expression. “No, ma’am. No need to check up on us at all.”
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Steph and Rae had each paid half of the first month’s rent and a security deposit, and both had signed the lease.
When the door closed behind the Kleinbergs, Rae sank against the kitchen counter. “Wow. I thought she would ask to move in with us.”
Steph laughed. “Come on. She was just trying to be nice.”
“Yeah. Nice.” Rae grimaced. “What do we do if she decides to check up on us after all and discovers that we have separate bedrooms?”
“I’ll tell her you snore like a walrus with a bad cold.”
Rae glared at her. “I don’t.”
“But the Kleinbergs don’t know that. Come on. Be a sport. At least we’ve got the apartment.”
“Yeah. So now that we do, no more touching or calling me ‘honey,’ okay?”
“What?” Steph clutched her chest and sniffled loudly. “Now that you got what you wanted, you’re breaking up with me?”
Rae groaned. “That’s what I get for moving in with a comedian.”
“Yep. It’s in the contract. You should have read the fine print before you signed it. Now you’ll have to get used to it.” Steph trailed her hand over the kitchen counter. “I can’t believe this is ours now. Well, not really ours, but you know what I mean. Are you going to move in tomorrow, or did you have a hard time finding help to move on short notice?”
“I’ll move in before work.” Rae didn’t have to wait for anyone since she intended to handle the move on her own.
“Me too. Want to grab a bite to eat and coordinate furniture?” Steph asked.
Rae wrinkled her nose. “Coordinate furniture?”
“We might end up with two microwaves, two couches, and two coffee tables, and there’s not enough room for that, so we should talk about who’s bringing what.”
After her encounter with Mrs. Kleinberg, Rae was all peopled out and needed some space. “Bring whatever you want. I don’t have a microwave, a couch, or a
coffee table anyway.”
Steph gaped at her. “You don’t have a—?”
“No.” Not in the mood to explain, Rae walked to the door. “Like I said, bring whatever you want. We’ll make it work.”
“Hey, wait,” Steph called after her. “Aren’t you forgetting something? You might need these if you want to move in tomorrow.”
When Rae turned back around, Steph tossed her a set of keys.
Christ, if people would only stop throwing stuff her way. Rae knew she had little chance of catching them, but she didn’t want to look like a fumbling fool so she tried anyway—and missed by at least a hand’s width.
The keys clattered onto the hardwood floor and slid to a stop in front of her toes.
Steph stared at her.
The heat of humiliation burned Rae’s cheeks. Gritting her teeth, she tried to look as dignified as possible as she bent and picked up the keys.
“Are you—?”
“Good night.” Rae clamped her fingers around the keys, turned on her heel, and abruptly pushed the door open.
Steph’s puzzled-sounding “good night” echoed after her all the way to her car.
CHAPTER 5
Early the next morning, Rae let out a string of curses. Transporting a queen-size mattress on her own was a bitch. By the time she had wrestled the mattress, the bed frame, and some other pieces of furniture into the small U-Haul truck she had rented, she was drenched in sweat.
Next, she stacked moving boxes onto the dolly and wheeled them out to the U-Haul. At least this apartment building had an elevator, making it easy to get things downstairs. The new one didn’t, so getting everything up to the second floor would be difficult, but Rae was determined to manage somehow.
She pulled the dolly free from under the boxes and went to get more.
Finally, she loaded the last box and her kettlebell into the truck. She wiped her brow on the back of her arm and paused on top of the loading ramp to take one last look at what had been her home for the past nine years. Memories of things that had happened in those walls flooded her. An image of Mike came unbidden, and she saw him sprawled out on her living room floor the last time he’d been over, his blue eyes twinkling as he tried to wrestle the last beer from her.