by Caitie Quinn
Ignoring the fact that her metaphor basically had me hiring a male prostitute, I was already mentally preparing for Hurricane Jayne to land.
FIFTEEN
Somewhere a phone was ringing.
It wasn’t my cell phone, so at first I was going to ignore it, but it just kept ringing. Then it stopped and started again.
I didn’t want to go all horror movie on myself, but…it was coming from inside the house.
Finally, I snuck into the kitchen—which was hard seeing as I could basically see the entire kitchen from my bed with the bedroom door open—and found a landline next to the fridge.
Should I answer it? Technically it was my phone now, but I didn’t even know there was a landline. Maybe it was someone who really needed to get in touch with Ben and if I didn’t answer it he’d never know his uncle three times removed who he’d never met before had died and left him a castle in Ireland.
Obviously, I needed to answer the phone.
Holding it to my ear as if it might explode, I almost whispered, “Hello?”
“Kasey?”
Someone knew my name. Maybe I had a stalker. That would pretty much round this week out well.
“Who is this?”
“It’s Max.”
My brain stalled out for a moment, first with, Max who? Then with, Oh my gosh, Max calling me? He knows about the kittens.
Then sanity returned.
Well, as sane as I’d been lately.
“Hey, Max. What’s up?” Smooth.
“I was just calling to make sure you remembered to have the locks changed.”
I stared at the phone wondering what alternate reality I’d stepped into.
“Um, what?”
“You know the locks. How Ben said he wasn’t sure who had his old keys? As a woman alone, you want to make sure you know where all the keys are.”
“Right. It’s on the list.” And the list was the size of an old New York City phone book.
“How far down the list exactly is it?” He sounded suspicious. Like he didn’t believe there was a list or if there was that this wasn’t actually on it.
I bit my tongue and stopped the Why is that your business question from slipping out.
“Somewhere. It’s on there somewhere. But, then again so is buying food so I don’t starve to death, remembering to put clothes on when I leave the house so I’m not arrested, and to give up drying my hair in the bathtub.” I sucked in a breath¸ trying to keep my voice even. “You know, all that life stuff that keeps you from being dead.”
I thought Max would have a witty retort right away, but the phone stayed silent for a moment. I almost said, “Max?” but part of me was hoping he’d just given up, set the phone down, and walked away.
“I’m just trying to help.” He didn’t sound apologetic. He didn’t sound annoyed. He sounded like this was just a statement of fact.
I had a sad feeling that he’d call anyone he met one day previously to make sure she changed her locks.
“Thanks Max. But, I got this.” I wish I could say something like, I’ve been taking care of myself for years. But before the words came out of my mouth I knew they weren’t true. Even when I was taking care of my mom and her issues, she was at least enough of a parent to make sure I was fed and clothed and going to school. Her stuff was emotional balance. She wasn’t a crappy parent. Then four years of undergrad living in the dorms because it was easier and cheaper. Then off to grad school where I soon fell into the habit of following Jason’s lead.
Making a list would probably be a good idea. I scrambled around looking for a notebook. I had a feeling trying to keep it on my phone would crash the system.
“Okay.” He drew the word out and I knew there was more coming. “Have you sent a change of address form to the post office?”
“Max. Really. I got this.” All thoughts of fluffy kittens harbored in the safety of Max’s arms flew out of my head. Also, I added update address to the list.
This was for the best. Between the dream and Jenna’s matchmaking and Jayne’s encouragement to rebound, I hadn’t realized I’d been weakening. But, just when I started to think Max wasn’t such a bad idea, he called a phone I didn’t even know I had to remind me what a controlling guy was like.
“You know what though?” I asked. “Thank you for calling. It was really nice and a good reminder.”
“Reminder?”
“I’ll see you around. Have a good one.”
Before he could ask any more questions or give me any more safety initiatives about how to live my own life, I hung up.
Guy, gone.
And that’s how he was going to stay.
SIXTEEN
The next day, after breaking my back unpacking—and yes, getting the locks changed and emailing the post office—I packed up my laptop and headed over to The Brew to get some work done.
Ah, free wifi. The mating call of every self-employed startup on the planet.
“Back again, Mocha?” Abby looked at me in what I assumed was supposed to be a welcoming expression. “Still wearing those yoga pants everywhere, huh?”
I bit my tongue. It was going to be swollen by the end of the week if I kept having to deal with all these opinionated life-runners. I may not be ready to tell them to leave me alone, but at least I wasn’t letting them shove me around any more.
“Abby. Lovely to see you. You’re looking fresh as a daisy. Yes, a mocha would be great. I’ll just put my work over by the comfy chairs and be back when you’re done with my drink.” I gave her my super big smile. “Then we can just skip whatever today’s lecture would have been.”
Flashing her a syrupy smile, she rolled her eyes before I pivoted to head toward what I had decided was My Chair. Pulling the coffee table closer, I laid out my to do list and the list of potential people to contact about jobs. I needed to update LinkedIn, but I sure as anything wasn’t going near Facebook knowing Jason was bad mouthing me there. Why bother?
The whirl of the coffeemaker brought a smile to my face and I considered where I was going to find more clients just so I could afford to work here.
I paid for my drink, ignoring Abby as much as possible and settled into work.
Domain name, check.
Domain email contact form, check.
Price sheet, check.
Website set up sketched out, check.
LinkedIn profile created, check.
See, this wasn’t so hard.
I also had several people I needed to contact right away. It wasn't exactly stealing clients, but it was staying in touch. Not that it mattered. I knew the people who would have hired my old company, Brockman, weren’t the same ones who would take a chance on a one woman start up.
Basically, a message saying that I was free and if they knew someone who was looking to hire a boutique shop to do specialized work, I would love to speak with them.
If I couldn't sell myself, I wasn't much of a marketing person, was I?
I was wrapping up my final draft of the press release when a slight body dropped into the chair across from me.
"I was hoping you'd be here." Jenna waved to John and started building a small office around her with a laptop and note cards and post-its and note cards and...basically everything but her desk.
"Tree still in your office?" Which, now that I was getting to know her, that made so much more sense and wasn't surprising in the least bit.
"Nope. The tree is gone, now I just need a roof and wall." She pulled her wallet out and headed toward the counter to order. When she got back, she propped her feet on the edge of the battered table and looked me over. "How goes the new company?"
"Not bad. My website went live and I’m about to email all my contacts to let them know I'm a free agent."
"Nice. Any bites already?" Jenna looked so hopeful, I almost hated to try to explain to her that I was basically one failure away from eating Ramen.
"Not yet, but I haven't sent out most of the mailing. I've only changed my Linke
dIn, and it's early. I'll send the press release after lunch when people are back but their morning stuff is off their plate."
"Ooohhh. A plan. I love it!"
Abby walked Jenna's drink down and plopped it down in front of her. "You know, this isn't a wait service situation. Feel free to not make me walk over here."
"Abby, the six feet isn't bad for you. And, you could have just shouted at me if you didn't want to walk it over."
Abby rolled her eyes again, set the drink down and wandered off as if Jenna hadn't just reprimanded her. I was beginning to think that was Abby's version of a smile.
"So,” Jenna dove right in as I set up, “have you looked at my website yet? Do you know what you'd do?"
I'd actually spent the night before looking at it and reading her books’ reviews on Amazon to get a feel for not only how she saw her books, but how her readers saw them.
"Yup. And I have a few questions I'd like you to answer before I move forward."
I handed her my client questionnaire that was basically a tuned up version of the one I'd created for Brockman. "This will help me know what your vision is if you have one, how open you are to something new, what your limitations are, and where you may not know you need help. Skip the budget questions."
"Why am I skipping the budget question?"
"You're obviously on a separate payment plan. I'm willing to do a complete overhaul for you for a discounted amount so you can be one of my portfolio sites." I named a price I thought was probably fair for everything she'd done for me and would still make my time worth it with the portfolio option.
"Kasey, that's not even half of what I paid to have the site created in the first place."
I tried to keep my disgust off my face since her site wasn't worth twice what I was charging her to begin with.
"We'll build into this a payment structure for updates and maintenance. Not to worry, you'll be paying me for years to come to manage this for you if you don't get an assistant."
That was my plan. To construct a company that was more than just a design studio. I was building a one-stop partnership where the care and management of your marketing assets were key, so a small business didn't need to grow their marketing department. Not to mention, I’d have a constant flow of business.
"That sounds good." Jenna paged through my printouts. “I mean, every time I had a new book come out it was like pulling teeth to get the site updated. I'd like to find someone who I could depend on to make sure things are seamless."
"That's me. Seamless."
"Perfect. And, you can tell me all about it tonight at game night."
Um..."Game night?"
"Right. I'm having people over to chill out and relax after the crazy week. We're going to play Taboo. Three teams of two."
I was starting to get suspicious of where this was going. "People?"
"You know, me and Ben, and then you, Hailey, Dane, and Max."
I wasn't fooled by her casual chatter or the order she'd put the names in.
"Really?"
"Yup. Just a couple friends hanging around, eating pizza, playing some games." She smiled that smile I’d become completely suspicious of over the past week. We should use her to gather intel. Foreign operatives would never see what hit them.
"I'm not sure, Jenna. I have a lot going on. I should probably get some more work done tonight." And avoid the matchmaking. “I’ve got this new client. She’s looking for a big overhaul of her site.”
"Oh, come on.” Now it was Jenna’s turn to roll her eyes. “You've already gotten a ton done and you have your first client. Aren't you supposed to be working to keep your clients happy? I want you to come to game night. That will keep me happy."
"Yeah, that's not going to work on me. I've already seen the need to draw lines with you. I'm not ending up a hashtag."
"You can't blame a girl for trying." She grinned. "But, still, game night. You need to come. Don't think now that you're moved in you get to get rid of us that easily. It will be fun. And you can meet Hailey. You'll like her a lot. She writes YA too. And Dane. Even if you don't like him, you'll enjoy looking at him. Come on, Kasey. Don't go all fringe friend on me already."
The truth sat there between us, as true for me as I expected it was for her. I liked Jenna. I did need more girlfriends...more friends period. And, she seemed to feel the same way. There was no reason to think that New Kasey couldn't control the situation and not fall into some type of accidental dating situation with a guy just because he was hot.
It's not like Max had shown any interest in me.
"Sure. Game night. Count me in."
I started thinking about walls and how high they needed to be as I settled back in to get the rest of my list done.
SEVENTEEN
"Jenna, what part of no do you not understand?" Max's voice pushed its way through the front door of the condo, a little more forcefully than I would have expected for a game night chit chat.
"I'm not telling you to date her. I'm just saying she's really nice and super cute. Don't think I didn't notice you checking her out."
"Checking her out is one thing. Taking her out is completely different. I'm not dating someone who needs to be managed that much. She can't walk across town without creating A Situation."
I could even hear the capitals on the last two words.
Who the hell did Max think he was judging me on a couple bad days? It's not like I was throwing myself at him like all those girls on Twitter...and probably half of them around town too.
"Right. Sure. Like I said, you don't have to date her. Just be nice and make her feel welcome." I could picture the look on Jenna's face while she humored Max and I doubt I liked it any more than he did.
"Listen to my words, Jenna. I—"
That was enough of that. I knocked on the door, thankful for the silence that fell from the other side followed by light footsteps rushing over.
"Kasey! I’m so glad you're here." She pulled me into a hug while clicking the door closed behind me with a solid thud.
Behind her, Max stood, hands in his pocket as he leaned against a kitchen island. "Kasey." He gave me a curt nod.
Yeah. Game night. Fun.
"Kasey!" Ben strolled out of a back room, obviously comfortable with the new living arrangement after one night. "We're so glad you could come. We haven't had even teams in..."
The fadeout wouldn't have been that interesting if it hadn't been accompanied by a glance in Max's direction.
That was interesting.
No. No, it wasn't. I wasn't interested in anything to do with Max. No matter what Jayne said about him being hot or the weird Kitten Calendar Dream.
But then a horrific thought crossed my mind. "What about the other people?"
"Hailey got caught up writing and she's running a few minutes late. Dane shows up when he wants." Jenna started putting together a fruit tray, completely focused on not meeting my gaze. "Which will be almost on time since I threatened to post his dating history online if he didn't start being more considerate of his friends."
She was not someone to cross. Amazing how she balanced being so sweet with the tiny, little dictator who peeked out occasionally. "You guys head into the living room and make yourselves comfortable."
I smiled at Max, annoyed at how much he didn't want to date me. Not that I wanted to date him. But he didn't have to be so vocal about how uninterested he was in me. I turned toward the other end of the open set up where a set of overstuffed living room furniture made a welcoming corner.
"So..." I glanced around looking for something to say that didn't scream, I heard you talking about how repulsive you find me. It was harder to come up with than you'd think. "Did you work today?"
"Yup."
"Anything interesting happen today?"
"Nope." He settled in the chair across from me. "So I'm assuming you didn't leave the house?"
I could feel my shoulders stiffening up. "No. I did. You may want to check the local banks."
The corner of his lips quirked up and he glanced back toward the kitchen. "I probably would have heard about a bank being robbed."
"I'm that good, obviously. You won't find out for another week or so. But, don't worry. I'll keep your name out of it when they bring me in for questioning."
Max shook his head, the smile still fighting those lips I definitely wasn't looking at. Just as he opened his mouth to reply, the front door flew open.
"Sorry I'm late, but look who I found hitting on one of your neighbors in the lobby."
I turned toward the voice and...stalled out.
The most stunningly good-looking guy I'd ever seen stood in the doorway behind an unconventionally pretty girl, a grin on his face that showed he was absolutely not feeling guilty about being late so he could flirt with some stranger.
He moved into the room, a gait made to watch and hugged Jenna before shaking Ben's hand. I'd lost track of the girl who'd come in with him while watching him move. It was a thing of beauty.
"Great. Another one drops under the supercilious good-looks of the playboy." Max kicked one leg up to cross the ankle over his knee and leaned back in the chair studying me as if he’d have to file a report at the end of the evening.
"What?" I knew what he was talking about, but I wasn't stupid enough to admit to it.
"Dane. You're reacting just like every other girl does when she sees him. Now he's going to spot you, a new girl in the room, sashay over and flatter you into falling at his feet."
"I'm sorry." I shook my head at Max as he started to look surprised at my apology. "I didn't realize guys sashayed. Is that a new thing or is it just a Dane specific swagger?"
"Oh, he's got tons of swagger. Everywhere we go he manages to use it to the best of his advantage."
"Jealous?"
"That he's going to come in here and see if you're stupid enough to fall for it like ninety-five percent of the female population?" Max gave a small snort as if answering wasn’t even worth his time.