The Roommate Arrangement

by Jae

  “No. It’s not that. I would wear goggles. But I… I’m not ready. Maybe someday.”

  “Any time.”

  They continued toward a poolside pergola that shaded a glass table surrounded by double lounge chairs on three sides.

  A tall man in his sixties stood from one of them. He wore black dress pants and a crisp, white shirt, but his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing a golfer’s tan that stopped at his left wrist. With his black hair, silver-tinged at his temples, and his tanned face, he didn’t resemble Steph at all, and Rae looked forward to discovering what—if anything—Steph had inherited from him.

  Dr. Renshaw gave Steph a hug and then took Rae’s hand in a strong grip, sizing her up as he shook it. At least he didn’t try to embrace her.

  “Rae, this is my father, James. Dad, this is my friend Rae.”

  My friend. The simple introduction warmed Rae to the core and made her feel less insecure, reminding her that she was in this luxurious mansion because Steph wanted her here.

  “Welcome and Merry Christmas.” Steph’s father nodded at one of the two-person lounge chairs. “Please take a seat and make yourself comfortable. The food should be here any minute.”

  Claire and Lana had joined them outside and were already cuddling close on one of the chairs, and with James settling back on his chair, that left only one for Rae and Steph to share.

  “Come on.” Steph tugged her toward the remaining lounge chair. “Let’s share. I don’t bite. Unless…”

  Rae vividly remembered how she had finished that sentence when they had leaned close for a photo in the gazebo in Descanso Gardens. She sent Steph a warning glance, not wanting her to repeat it in front of her father.

  Steph grinned. She kicked off her shoes and made herself comfortable on her half of the lounge chair, one leg curled under her as if she didn’t care one bit if her slacks got wrinkled.

  Rae sat next to her and put her hands flat on her own thighs in an attempt not to fidget.

  “Relax,” Steph whispered.

  “So, Rae,” James said, making Rae stiffen even more, “what is it that you do for a living?”

  In the past, Rae had always been proud to tell people she worked for the LAPD, but now she wondered what he would think of her job.

  Steph leaned into her in silent support. Her shoulder warmed Rae’s side.

  Rae glanced at her, then looked Steph’s father in the eyes. “I work security at The Fun Zone, one of the comedy clubs where Steph occasionally works.”

  “Security?” James repeated.

  Rae couldn’t interpret the undertone in his voice. Was he judging her or admiring her? “Yes, sir.”

  “James, please. So you’re one of the people who keeps my daughter safe?”

  Rae straightened. She liked that description of her job. “Yes, s—James.”

  “She’s the best,” Steph said firmly. “I never have to worry about the audience being seated the wrong way or a heckler getting out of hand when Rae is on duty.”

  Lana sighed. “Where were you the one and only time I tried stand-up? I could have used someone to save me from the heckler who kept making fun of me.”

  Claire gave her a sympathetic kiss on the cheek. “Aww. Poor sweetie. I’m sure you were great.”

  “God, no.” Lana laughed. “I was horrible. The heckler was actually funnier than me. Stand-up isn’t as easy as it looks.”

  “I’m sure it isn’t,” James said, but it sounded like an empty phrase, not a statement made out of conviction.

  Silence descended on them. Neither Claire nor her father seemed to have much to say about stand-up comedy, and Steph had gone strangely quiet too. As far as Rae knew, no one in Steph’s family had ever been to one of her shows, and Lana seemed to be the only one who respected what Steph did for a living.

  Steph stood, reached for Rae’s hand, and tugged her up with her. “I’m going to show Rae around before dinner.” Without waiting for a reply, she dragged Rae away from the pergola. Instead of taking her inside to show her the house, she steered them toward the edge of the property, as if she wanted to get as far away from her family as possible.

  Rae didn’t question her. She was very aware that Steph still hadn’t let go of her hand as they strolled along a row of apricot and plum trees.

  Steph paused at one of the older trees and touched a small, uneven heart that had been carved into the trunk, along with S&C.

  “Stephanie and…?”

  “Hmm?” Steph looked at her as if she’d been lost in thought.

  Rae gestured at the tree. “What was the name of your sweetheart? Constance? Curtis? Chester? Clementine?”

  Steph shook herself and laughed. “Where did you get those names from? The Book of Old-Fashioned Baby Names?”

  Mission accomplished. Rae smiled to herself. She had made Steph laugh and distracted her from whatever sad thoughts she’d been thinking. “Who’s the tree girl or boy? Clarence? Cornelius? Clytee?”

  “You made that one up!”

  “No, I swear.” Rae raised her free hand as if taking an oath. “I once arrested a woman with exactly that name. So?”

  “There is no sweetheart. Claire and I carved the heart when we were little.”

  Rae stared across the pool toward Claire, who sat on her lounge chair with a perfectly straight back, not a wrinkle in her tailored slacks or her silk blouse. “Claire carved something into a tree?”

  “It took me a week to talk her into it. She didn’t want to get in trouble with our parents.”

  But she had done it, just because her little sister wanted to have their heart on a tree. “Were you close growing up?” Rae asked.

  Steph’s gaze roved through the garden as if she was replaying scenes of her childhood. “Yeah, kind of. As close as two siblings can be when they’re as different as Claire and me.”

  “What happened?”

  Steph shrugged and looked away. “The usual, I guess. Puberty. Growing up. Not that Claire thinks I ever grew up.”

  Was that really all? Rae waited but didn’t ask, in case Steph didn’t want to talk about whatever had happened.

  “I slept with her ex, okay?” Steph tugged her hand free, turned on her heel, and marched toward the detached guesthouse at the other end of the pool.

  For a moment, Rae stood frozen and stared at her retreating back before hurrying after her. “Steph! Wait, please.” She gently gripped her elbow and forced her to slow down. “I’m not judging. I’m sure there was a good reason for it.”

  Steph sat in the grass in front of the guesthouse. “Not really. I was sixteen, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  Rae eyed the grass but then sat next to her, best pair of pants be damned. Her knee lightly brushed Steph’s, but she didn’t move away. Both were silent for a while, just sitting together.

  “When I was little, I always wanted to live out here.” Steph pointed at the guesthouse with a glass front that faced the pool. “My parents didn’t understand it, especially since I had the biggest, most impressive bedroom you can imagine.”

  “Impressive isn’t your thing,” Rae said. “Didn’t your parents understand that?”

  Steph sighed. “They thought they understood more about me than I did. They insisted there was an unconscious reason for every little thing I did, and of course they always knew what it was. Like me being late meant I didn’t really want to be here.” She made a face. “Okay, guess they were right about that one sometimes.”

  “So you did a lot of stuff for no good reason at all, just to prove them wrong?” Rae asked.

  Steph turned to face her more fully, which made her knee slide along Rae’s thigh.

  A shiver went through Rae, and she clutched a handful of grass.

  “Damn. I think you’re right.” Steph laughed, but it sounded mostly startled and
bitter. She tapped Rae’s knee. “You should be a psychologist.”

  “Hey, no insults, or you’re not getting your Christmas present!”

  They laughed together, and this time, there was no bitterness in Steph’s laughter. Finally, she sobered. “Claire assumed I did it to hurt her. But that’s not true. Elyse—her ex—was great. Smart and really beautiful. And she listened to me. She never treated me like her girlfriend’s annoying baby sister. I guess I had a little bit of a crush on her.” Her cheeks took on a pinkish hue.

  It was like a puzzle piece that had been missing to help Rae see the full picture. Maybe this was the reason Steph avoided relationships. The one time she might have wanted to be someone’s girlfriend had ended in a huge family drama and everyone involved getting hurt.

  “Sounds like you had more than a little crush,” Rae said quietly. “Maybe you had a reason after all.”

  “Maybe.” Her hand still on Rae’s knee, Steph looked her in the eye. “Thank you for not judging.”

  “No thanks necessary. I’m Team Steph, okay?”

  A soft smile drove the last hints of sadness from Steph’s face. Their gazes held as she leaned toward Rae. Her heat seemed to engulf Rae, along with the irresistible scent of her perfume.

  Rae’s heart hammered against her ribs. Calm down. She’s just going to give you a thank-you kiss on the cheek. Steph had done that before. But she wasn’t looking at Rae’s cheek. Steph’s gaze darted to her mouth as her face drew closer. Her warm breath caressed Rae’s lips, a harbinger of what she would do with her soft mouth in a second.

  “Honey, I think we have a problem.” Diane’s voice right next to them made them both jerk back.

  Rae nearly fell back into the grass as the eye contact with Steph was interrupted, as if a lifeline had been cut.

  Steph pressed her hand to her mouth as if she had actually kissed her and could still feel Rae’s lips on her own. “Um, what?” She blinked up at her mother.

  “We have a problem,” Diane repeated. “I just called Foodtopia to see why our delivery is delayed, and it turns out our order isn’t in their system. Apparently, someone forgot to enter it.”

  Her husband, Claire, and Lana walked over, and the Renshaws exchanged helpless gazes.

  “Can’t they whip something up and send it over?” James pressed a hand to his belly. “I’m starving.”

  “They offered, but they have a lot of customers today, so they said it would be at least an hour and a half,” Diane answered. “That would mean Stephanie and Rae have to wolf down their food and rush out the door. I’m so sorry. I thought we had plenty of time, or I would have had you over earlier in the day.”

  “You couldn’t know there’d be such a delay, Mom,” Claire said.

  Lana wrapped one arm around Claire and lovingly trailed her hand over the sleeve of her silk blouse. “Why don’t we order pizza?”

  The Renshaws looked at her as if she had suggested eating the neighbor’s dog.

  Rae got up and pulled Steph to her feet too. “Or we could just cook something.” That earned her a look as if she had suggested eating the neighbor’s kids, but Rae didn’t let that stop her. After that near kiss, she needed something to distract herself. “There’s a kitchen in the house, right?”

  “Yes, of course,” Diane said. “But—”

  “Then let’s go. I’ll be the chef, and you can be my armada of helpful sous-chefs. We’ll have dinner on the table in no time.” Rae marched toward the house and waved at the others to follow.

  Steph stayed back and stared after Rae, who had taken charge as if she had been cooking for the Renshaws for years. But that wasn’t the most surprising thing.

  She touched her mouth again, trailing her index finger along her bottom lip, where she could still feel Rae’s warm breath. There was no doubt in her mind that they would have kissed if her mother hadn’t interrupted—and would probably still be kissing.

  This time, their landlord and landlady hadn’t been around, so she couldn’t blame it on needing to convince them they were a couple. Was this one of the spontaneous things that she did just to prove that her parents were wrong and she didn’t always have a reason for doing what she did?

  No. She might not be a psychologist, but she knew herself, and she knew she had nearly kissed Rae for one reason only: because she wanted to. God, did she want to. It was almost like a physical ache. But it was more than merely physical. She liked Rae. Really liked her.

  “I like her.”

  Her father’s voice echoed her thoughts, wrenching Steph from her near-kiss haze.

  “Dad…” She put a warning into her tone. “We’re not a couple.”

  “I can still like her, can’t I? Besides, the way the two of you look at each other… Well, I might only be an organizational psychologist, not a couples therapist like your sister, but I lived with a roommate or two before I met your mother, and none of them ever looked at me the way you and Rae look at each other.” He patted her shoulder. “Now you’ll have to excuse me. I don’t want to miss your mother’s first and probably only attempt to help with cooking.”

  When he walked off, Steph stayed behind and sank back down into the grass.

  Her parents might not always understand her or know what was really going on inside of her, but that didn’t mean they were always wrong. She had never looked at any of her roommates the way she looked at Rae. Hell, she had never looked at anyone the way she looked at Rae. It made her feel elated and nervous all at the same time because what if she messed this up? With her track record, that was likely to happen. In the beginning, she had decided to ignore her attraction to Rae because she was her roommate and an employee in one of the biggest clubs. But now losing the apartment or even her gigs at The Fun Zone was the least of her worries. Losing Rae’s friendship would be so much worse.

  But what if…? She chewed on her lip. No, she couldn’t let herself think like that. Rae was a one-woman woman. Someone who had only ever been in one fifteen-year relationship. She didn’t do casual, and Steph wasn’t sure she had what it took to do anything but. Walking out when she got restless or things got serious had always been her modus operandi, and she couldn’t do that to Rae. It was what Lise had done, and Rae deserved better than that.

  She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting in the grass, brooding, but loud voices drifting over from the house finally shook her from her thoughts. Quickly, she jumped up and rushed inside.

  God, what had she been thinking to leave Rae alone with her family? She knew Rae wasn’t comfortable around people most of the time.

  One step from her parents’ usually pristine kitchen, she came to an abrupt halt.

  Rae had taken up position in front of the enormous six-burner gas range like a captain on the bridge of a ship, and she was ordering everyone around.

  What was even more amazing was that her helpers—even Steph’s mother—jumped to do her bidding, getting pots and ingredients and anything else Rae asked for.

  Steph took a careful step closer, feeling as if she would wake up from this very strange dream any second. “Um, do you need any more help?”

  Rae looked up, and their gazes connected. “Well, I would say you can cut the onions, but I’ve seen you try, so…”

  Lana laughed. “Is she as bad as Claire?”

  “Hey, I can cook,” Claire protested. “I just prefer dining out—or having my talented fiancée cook for me.” They paused in whatever they had been doing and exchanged a short, sweet kiss in the middle of the kitchen. “Even if I have to practically renovate the kitchen afterward,” Claire added when the kiss ended.

  Lana playfully stuck her tongue out at her.

  Steph tried to peer around them and catch a glimpse of whatever was cooking in the giant pot in the back of the range. “What are you making?”

  “Spaghetti with fresh tomato sauce,” Rae answered.r />
  Steph burst out laughing. “We’re having spaghetti for Christmas dinner?”

  Rae shrugged. “Well, we were a little limited in our options because your parents have the biggest nearly empty walk-in pantry I have ever seen.”

  “Spaghetti sounds great,” Steph said. “Beats the tofu turkey with apple stuffing we had a few years ago. I’m just surprised you got my mom to agree to eating carbs.”

  “Hush,” Steph’s mother said. “I do eat carbs on special occasions. Now give me the onions, Rae. I can chop them…I think.” She walked up to Rae from the left. Before Steph could stop her, she plucked the onion Rae held from her hand.

  Rae jumped and stumbled backward against the stove. Water sizzled and hissed as it sloshed over the edge of the pot and onto the gas flame.

  “Okay, everyone!” Steph shouted over the chaos in the kitchen. She struggled against the impulse to hurry over to Rae and make sure she was all right. “This is clearly a case of too many cooks in the kitchen. How about you all go back outside while I help Rae?”

  “It’s okay, Steph,” Rae said quietly.

  Steph looked at her and mouthed, Are you sure?

  Rae nodded.

  “What happened?” Steph’s mother studied Rae with a look as if she was mentally flipping through her copy of the DSM-5 to come up with the right diagnosis for her.

  Gritting her teeth, Steph took the onion from her mother and plopped it down on the other side of the huge center island, a safe distance from Rae. “There. You can cut it here.” She gave her mother a warning look. “And don’t use a bread knife.”

  Apparently, her mother got the message. She closed her mouth and took the knife Lana handed her.

  Dinner had been a lot better than Rae had feared—not only the food, but the conversation too. While she hadn’t contributed much, preferring to stay in the background and listen, she had enjoyed watching Steph and her family interact.

  She had to give the Renshaws credit. They had adjusted to the catering service snafu with ease and had dug into their plates of spaghetti as if Rae’s simple creation were a meal at a five-star restaurant. Maybe they weren’t as posh as she had thought.