Worth the Fall

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Worth the Fall Page 4

by Caitie Quinn


  “Really?” He sounded a little worried. Which, since he was a business owner, I found ironic. And worrisome.

  “Yup. I’m a graphic designer. I’ve done a ton of marketing campaigns. I thought I’d rather do it on my own and work with a smaller clientele base than run big, corporate projects anymore.” Plus that whole, lost my job thing.

  Jenna glanced up, studying me. For the first time I saw someone who wasn’t flaky. Someone who knew what she was doing.

  “Do you have any samples of your work?”

  Darn it. Samples. I hadn’t gotten that far.

  “I’m doing some market analysis first to see what smaller groups and individuals would most likely be interested in and are able to afford. But, if you’re curious…” I scribbled down five of the last websites I’d done in conjunction with a marketing plan. “I did the pitch and saw all of these projects through.”

  Jenna took the paper and typed the first one in. I watched her—nose scrunched up, eyes focused—as she paged through the first site.

  “How much direction did they give you?”

  “It depends on the client. Sometimes they have no idea what they want. Sometimes they have a vision.” I grinned, thinking of my last job with a lawyer who thought he was a closet artist. “Occasionally the vision is actually doable. I have a questionnaire for them either way that helps get things clear on both sides.”

  I scribbled down questionnaire on my to do list. I better have those ready to go. And business cards. And my own website. And a brand. You know, nothing too time consuming.

  I mentally did the how-much-money-is-in-my-bank-account math, glad I could do the work on my own.

  Jenna nodded again. “Let me look at these. I may have some more questions.”

  I glanced toward John, unsure what was going on, but pretty stoked. If I was reading the situation right, I might have my first client.

  “You ladies enjoy the beverages.” He rose, lifting his empty mug as he went. “I have to go manage something.”

  A glance back at Jenna showed me I should let her be. One thing I’d learned working in a corporate setting was when to let the client think.

  And, if I was going to have a client, I had a couple things to do. I glanced at my to do list pretending it could all get done in one afternoon. After all, ignorance, even denial-style, was bliss.

  SIX

  “Hey there, Sunshine. Creating worlds to rip apart?”

  That had to be Ben. Not just because he’d pulled a chair practically into her lap and kissed her forehead as he sat, but because I could easily believe he was the second most gorgeous guy in town.

  And smitten. He was totally smitten.

  “I’ve just added a car accident while the driver was texting. Only, I’m not sure it’s funny enough.”

  I wasn’t sure it was funny at all, but what did I know?

  “I mean,” she continued. “It’s a serious topic, but it still has to be funny.”

  Ben nodded his head as if this was a normal conversation.

  “Oh. Ben!” Jenna closed her laptop and motioned toward me. “This is Kasey Lane. Is that not one of the best names ever?”

  Ben offered me his hand and a smile that told me he was humoring her—but not by much. I couldn’t imagine finding a guy who saw my best in what others saw as a bit odd.

  “Ben Donahue.”

  “Kasey of the awesome name.”

  He flashed that grin at me and I didn’t blame Jenna one bit for her smittenness. Where she was all nerdy-glasses girl, he was hot JCrew glasses guy. They’d have the most adorable near-sighted children ever.

  “So, Ms. Awesome Name, I hear you’re looking for a new place to live.”

  It was embarrassing. More than embarrassing. But, what are you going to do about. It was true, I was desperate, and he might be the answer.

  I gave him the basics: Lost job, new company, bad break-up, the end.

  “Guys can be the ruination of all things good. I’m a guy and I’m still only running fifty-percent in that category.”

  “Fifty-percent?”

  “My two best guy friends. One is a womanizer and one’s trying to save the world.”

  “I didn’t know the two were mutually exclusive.” I slapped a hand over my mouth. Nothing like insulting the guy’s friend while asking for a favor.

  Ben laughed. “Okay. True enough. But Max is a good guy. He was my roommate in college. Dane, well…Women think he’s pretty, we’ll leave it at that. I figure they cancel each other out.”

  Jenna shut her laptop and set it aside. “You’ll like Max. You’ll like Dane too. It’s nearly impossible not to once you can hear him talking through the blinding good-looks that dull all your senses.”

  That was all I needed—more womanizing men. They probably had Convenience Girlfriends who didn’t push for a commitment when they’d been seeing each other for years…or, you know, were moving in together.

  “So, here’s the deal. I have a place about two blocks from here. I’ll be gone for about a year.” He reached out and wrapped Jenna’s hand in his. “When I come back to visit, I might want to get into my storage closet, but I’d just stay with Jenna if she doesn’t have any more natural disasters at her place. I’d feel good having someone in there. Knowing there won’t be any issues with frozen pipes or break-ins this winter. I was thinking this would be a win-win.”

  Two blocks away was way too close to super-nice territory. I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to be able to afford even a win-win price—until he named it.

  “You can’t be serious. You could get double that.”

  Ben shrugged. “I don’t need the money because of the job set up. My mortgage is low and that’s us splitting it in half. I thought you might want to come see it today.”

  “After lunch. You’ll have to sit through a meal with us while I grill you about your new company and the huge favor you’re going to do for me in exchange for living at my boyfriend’s place.”

  I’ll be honest, that statement—even said in her perky little voice—made me a little nervous.

  Jenna went back to typing away while Ben and I chatted. It felt awkward hanging out with her guy.

  “Don’t mind her. She’ll stay in her own world until she gets to a good stopping place.”

  With a snap, she finally closed the laptop. “I’m ready for lunch any time you are.”

  Somehow she made this sound as if she’d just been waiting on us.

  “Of course you are. But, Kasey was trying to get some work done.” Ben leaned over and kissed her lightly before glancing at me with a grin. “We’re working on awareness.”

  “I’m perfectly aware. I’m just hungry.”

  “Well, we can get you a snack if it will keep you being nice to our company.” Ben leaned back in his chair, watching Jenna pack up her stuff.

  Jenna looked grim. You’d think Ben had been starving her. “Maybe just a small snack. I mean, because we have to wait then walk to the restaurant and then wait. It makes sense.”

  “Of course it does.” Ben gave me a grin as he rose and headed toward the counter. “Never get between Jenna and her computer or food. Otherwise, she’s pretty easygoing.”

  Good to know.

  I was about to comment on Jenna’s tiny waist versus her not-so-tiny appetite, but instead figured it was probably best to wrap up my research so we could get the girl to a restaurant.

  If food was the way to Jenna’s heart and Jenna was the way to Ben’s apartment, I could get us to a lunch spot faster than a womanizing ass could dump a relationship-blind girl.

  SEVEN

  Ben’s apartment was everything a girl could dream of. Settled on the top floor of an old brownstone walk-up, it had a tiny “terrace” that was basically the roof of the floor below, a breakfast nook with a big window, and a small, but comfortably furnished living room. The kitchen was small, but had a raised microwave to save counter space—and my ability to feed myself. The bedroom hooked off the living room and
squeezed into a corner surrounded by windows was a cute little desk.

  I could live here. I could even work here.

  “You can see most of my mortgage is location.” Ben gave a little self-deprecating grin. “It’s so small I've learned to keep it clean. Even a sock on the floor makes everything feel cluttered. The building has rules about everything, so it’s better to have someone here. But, it’s a great space and I don’t want to have to sell it.”

  If this was mine, I’d never want to lose it either.

  “You’re really willing to sublet it to me at that rate?”

  “I wasn’t going to sublet it at all. The company that’s hired my group is going to board us in London. Now I won’t have to worry if something happens in the building, and I can to afford to come home more often.” Ben wrapped an arm around Jenna. “You can see where that would be a draw.”

  I did another lap around the place, as if there was a decision to make.

  “I can’t thank you enough for this. Jason gave me back my first rent and half my security deposit so I can write you a check today if you’d like.”

  “He gave you back half your security?” Jenna all but stuck her hands on her hips as she said it.

  “I know. I just didn’t know what to say when it happened. He gave it to me in a Hallmark card.”

  “Oh! What did the card say?” Jenna had that gleam in her eye that was becoming familiar. She was probably the most curious person I’d ever met.

  “Jenna, not everyone wants to share every detail of their personal life.”

  “Actually…” I dug in my bag looking for the envelope. “I haven’t even opened it yet.”

  “You didn’t check that the money was all there?”

  “Well, I figured who lies about giving you back only half your money.”

  We all looked at the envelope as if it was going to start talking.

  “Well.” Jenna bounced on her toes. “Open it.”

  “Sunshine.” Ben obviously spent a lot of time gently reining her in.

  “No. Let’s open it.” I tore the corner and stuck my finger in, running it across the top until I could pull the check out of the card. The check was there for exactly the amount he told me it would be worth. “All there.”

  “Read the card.”

  “Jenna Jameson Drake.” Ben took her by the shoulders and turned her away from me so she’d—hopefully—lose her focus. “Maybe she wants to ritualistically burn the card without having ever read it.”

  “Oh, that’s good.” I started considering the places a fire could be built without getting the fire department called. “You’re good at this. You must have been a woman in a past life.”

  “I’m secure enough in my manhood to accept that as a compliment.”

  Ok, here goes. I pulled the card out and examined it.

  “There’s a cat on the cover. He’s wearing a top hat.” I held it up so they could see the outside. “And inside…”

  I flipped the card open and saw…Nothing. Not one thing. He’d given me a blank card and hadn’t even signed it.

  “Wow. That’s—I don’t even have words.” Jenna just stared at the card. “It’s not very often I don’t have any words. But this may be one of those times.”

  We all just stared at the card.

  Just stared as if the longer we looked the more the chance of it making sense might happen.

  “Do you think he just had this sitting around the house?”

  Yesterday I would have said no. But, today I was realizing anything Jason-related was possible.

  “Maybe? Who knows?” But, at that point, I didn’t even care. I was only going to be homeless for a few weeks and I had a great business plan forming. Maybe getting dumped was the universe forcing me to shake loose all the bad stuff in my life. “I’d love to sublet this place.”

  “Great!” Ben wrapped an arm around Jenna again. “Looks like you’re going to be stuck with me every night for the next three weeks.”

  “Oh. Wow. I don’t want to force you out of your house.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I mean, why move twice? And where would you go for three weeks anyway? As long as you don’t mind that we can make some time each weekend for me to do some long term packing. We’ll make it work.”

  “Isn’t he the best?” Jenna beamed up at him. No wonder she seemed like she was always so happy.

  “Guys. This is too much. This is great.” I fought the tears I hadn’t cried since this all started two days before. “I just can’t believe this.”

  “No worries.” Ben shifted one foot behind the other, leaning away, obviously uncomfortable with the near tears. “Why don’t you go home and get yourself ready to move tomorrow? We’ll trade physical labor. I’ll help you get stuff in and you’ll help me get stuff out.”

  And with that, I headed back to my empty, cold, dark apartment to get ready to move into a cozy little paradise.

  EIGHT

  Eight calls. I’d called Micah eight times. He hadn’t returned them when I’d reported my heat-hot-water-electric issue. Not when I’d called to see when they were going to be back on. Not when I’d called to say I’d be moving out on the agreed upon date and needed a parking pass for a moving van. And not when I’d called while walking back.

  By the time I’d run all my errands and headed home it was dark out and I was getting chilly and annoyed. Plus, I really had no interest in sleeping in a cold, dark room again.

  I climbed the three flights to my apartment and slid the key home into the lock.

  Nothing.

  I checked the number on the door. Yup, I lived there. I pulled the key out and tried it again. Nope. Still didn’t turn.

  I rooted around for my cell phone and checked my messages. Nothing. Not one thing. Who doesn’t call back a tenant in an emergency?

  I considered calling him one more time, but figured he’d just ignore me again. Micah had never been the best super in the world, but I’d never thought he’d lock me out of my own apartment.

  On the upside, I always left my bedroom window cracked. Jason had told me over and over again that it was a bad idea. That I should at least get a bar to block the window from opening more since the fire escape landing was right outside.

  I kept meaning to. I kept forgetting.

  Now, that meant I had another way into my apartment.

  I tromped back downstairs and out the front door. On the sidewalk, I glanced up to Micah’s apartment, but the light was out. Without any other options, I headed around to the side of the building to begin my MacGyver entry.

  The first step was just getting onto the fire stairs. It took several tries to jump high enough to loop my bag’s strap over the first rung of the stairs and pull them down. Then, it flew up, clanging against the landing above it when I tried to unhook my bag. I was making a such a racket even the stray cats were taking off.

  After two more tries, the bag was looped over my shoulder and the ladder was firmly in hand. I climbed up the cold, rusty metal, inching by dark windows and hoping I didn’t scare poor Mrs. Windsor on the second floor. All I needed was to try to explain her heart attack to her children.

  When I got to the landing outside my bedroom, I tried to wedge the tips of my fingers into the small space between the window and the outside sill. Since I barely opened the window, they barely fit. It took all my strength to open it from the odd angle, working one side and then the other. And I still couldn’t really fit my fingers through.

  What I needed was a crowbar or something I could slide into that tiny spot.

  And Jason was convinced it would be easy to break in and rob me.

  With a relieved sigh, the window gave and opened just enough for me to slip inside. I dropped the bag in and then crouched to follow it, leaning in and placing my hands on the floor as I scooted through like an oversized worm.

  When I reached my butt, I was sure for a moment I wasn’t going to fit. Who knows how I’d have backed out of that? Just as I slipped through,
I felt a spiky scrape on my leg and a yank on my pants as they got caught on something sharp outside on the fire escape.

  After a few tugs—and a few shakes—it became obvious I wasn’t getting out of this without ripping my favorite yoga pants.

  On the upside, no one was around to see me get out of this without my dignity instead.

  I turned on my side, resting on my head and shoulder on the floor. Clearly I was going to have one heck of a crink in my neck the next morning. With my free hand, I worked at my yoga pants until I could shove them down with my feet. When they were almost off, they caught on my shoes, so I toed those off onto the fire escape. As soon as I was free, I slid all the way in, pushed the window open, and reached out to grab my shoes, searching for them in the darkness.

  It wasn’t until I spotted them that I realized a beam of light was coming from behind me.

  “Just ease back in the window and turn around slowly,” the deep voice commanded.

  I glanced over my shoulder and could see two men silhouetted by the light from the building’s hallway, but everything else was blinded by the flashlight aimed at my face.

  My hesitation must have annoyed him, because the voice came with an edge this time. “Ma’am you’re going to have to come back in. We’ll talk about this. Calmly.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Officer Darby. I’m going to have to ask you to raise your hands and turn around slowly.”

  Oh my goodness. I was hanging out the window with my butt covered only by my haven’t-been-packed-yet panties. Not to mention the police had managed to get into my apartment when I hadn’t been able to. How the heck had that happened?

  I slid back in, wishing I could melt through the floor, and turned to face them, my yoga pants held up as a shield in front of me.

  “You’re going to have to drop the pants and come this way.”

  “Why are you in my apartment?” I wasn’t dropping the pants even for the cops.

  “It’s not your apartment,” a second voice whined. “You moved out.”

 

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