by Abby Brooks
“Okay, Kiki. Spill. What’s going on with you?”
I glanced at Nan, who wore her serious face like she’d earned her master’s in parenting. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t you ‘whadaya mean’ me. You’ve been quiet since we left the house.”
“I’m just a little preoccupied.”
“You don’t say.” A smile transformed her face. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain scowling and shirtless handyman, would it?”
“What? Nan. No.” I shivered like I’d swallowed a handful of circus peanuts. Those violent orange candies weren’t fit for human consumption and I’d fistfight anyone who told me otherwise. That man…my subconscious flared its hands and shook its head without finishing the thought. I didn’t have a clue how to put him into context.
Never in my life had someone made me feel so…
…so…
…so everything.
He made me want to shake my fists, then grab him by the collar and shake him. He made me want to scream. To get up in his face and demand he explain what the hell was wrong with him.
Even with all that true, when I imagined grabbing him by the collar, sometimes I shook him, but other times I found myself wondering what color his eyes were up close. And my libido celebrated the idea of Joe making me scream…not because I was mad.
Oh, no.
My lady parts fancied his dangly bits, which I found almost as annoying as the man himself.
Talking to Nana Maxine about Joe wouldn’t help matters. For whatever reason, they enjoyed each other’s company and her eyes lit up whenever his name entered a conversation. She would never understand why that wasn’t true for everyone. So, much like the detour I’d taken in my car, I answered her question with the other topic my mind couldn’t put down.
“There was this kid at the clinic the other day.” I sucked in my lips, then gave her the highpoints of the situation. “He’s just stuck with me. He was so big and so little all at the same time. Why was he alone? Why was he trying to feed himself hot dogs? How did he even know how to get himself to the clinic in the first place?”
Nan frowned, the lines between her brows standing proud. “Is there anything you can do for him?”
“Hope the next time he comes back he has his mom with him.” I flicked on my turn indicator with a shrug. “Or, better yet, hope he doesn’t need to come back at all.”
The conversation moved on and I pushed my worries away so I could be more present with my grandma. We joked about my mom and her takeout addiction and she asked me about Prison Guard Emmanuel and his Timer of Doom.
I rolled my eyes as I turned onto the street that led to my apartment. “You don’t wanna know.”
The manicured mini-lawns outside my building came into view and guilt hollowed my stomach. I should have gone straight to the restaurant instead of ambushing her with my side-quest, but it was too late to undo that mistake. I was committed, for better or worse. Something told me to expect the worst.
Nan peered out the window and narrowed her eyes. “I thought we were going to lunch.”
“We are.” My smile, cranked to one billion watts, blinded even me. I dialed it back, aiming for sweet and caring instead of crazed but loving kidnapper.
“Then why are we at your apartment?” Her eyes narrowed even more, her head cocking.
I’d been busted in a big way.
“I…uhh…” Panic erased any viable explanation, reducing my mind to a buzz of “oh shit oh shit oh shit.” “…just thought I’d show you around.”
With a slow nod, she pursed her lips. “I have been here before, you know.”
“But not recently. I got some new things.”
It was a low-quality dodge and Nana Maxine had a high-quality brain.
She flared her hands and said nothing.
Never a good sign.
We parked and I chattered about anything that came to mind as I led my grandmother to the concrete steps in front of my apartment. Beside us, my neighbors—a young couple I barely spoke to—grunted and groaned up the walk, hauling a giant box toward their door. They rested the edge of the monstrous package on their front step and the guy…I thought his name was Jake. And her name was…Pauline? Paulette? Pollyanna? It started with a P, I was sure…
Anyway, he lifted a hand, eyes glinting. “Hey, neighbor!”
“Hey, yourself!” For my grandmother’s benefit, I waved like he was my best friend. See? the gesture said. Apartment living means you’re never alone!
Nan smiled as we entered my home. “They seem nice enough.”
I bobbed my head. “As far as neighbors go, I really lucked out. Those two always sound like they’re having so much fun.” Read: they had raucous parties and loud sex. “And I never see the guy beside me. Like, ever.”
Like, ever ever.
If it wasn’t for the fact that sometimes his car wasn’t in his space, I’d wonder if he was dead.
I extended my arms in my spacious living room, doing my best not to look like I was selling her on the glories of apartment living, even though I was totally selling her on the glories of apartment living.
“And there’s a pool, which I love.”
That wasn’t a complete fib. While I didn’t have time to lounge in front of the water, I’d love it if I did.
“And the workout facility is great.”
Or so I assumed. I’d never been there. Though, given my fast food addiction, I probably needed to consider a visit.
“But the best part is that I’m surrounded by people. Come on. Let me show you the kitchen!” I waved her toward the room in question with a used car salesman grin.
Nan rooted her feet in place, her arms crossed over her stomach, her face informing me I didn’t have a future in subterfuge. “What are you doing?”
With the most innocent look I could manage, I shrugged. “What do you mean? I’m showing off my apartment to one of my favorite people before taking her to lunch.”
“You’re a terrible liar. You need to know this about yourself. You’d fail in sales, politics, and espionage.”
My gaze wandered the walls, the floor, the ceiling…studying anything that wasn’t Nan. What was the appropriate response when called out on deception? My instinct was to drop to my knees and beg forgiveness, but when stepping out of one’s comfort zone, sometimes what felt right was actually wrong. So, what was I supposed to do instead? Double down?
Thankfully, Nan put me out of my misery.
“Oh, come on Kiki. You brought me here because you want me to move out of my house and into an apartment.”
I drooped as dramatically as the ferns in front of her porch. “I just worry…”
With a smile, she crossed the room and put her hands on my shoulders. “And you don’t need to. This is a great place, though I’d be nervous about a neighbor I shared walls with and never heard.” She gave said wall a suspicious glance. “You have every right to be proud of living here, just like I have every right to be proud of living at my house.”
“But it’s in such bad shape…” Relief flooded through me, hand-in-hand with regret. Speaking my mind felt right, but having this argument with Nan, for the hundredth time, felt not-so-right.
“Which is why I have Joe.”
His name had my hackles up so fast, Nan half-laughed, half-sighed, and took my hand. “I can’t understand what you have against him.”
“He’s rude.”
“So are you.”
“Only to him.”
She conceded the point, but not the discussion. The set of her gaze told me we were in a battle to the death on the topic. “He's a sweet man who wants to open up a contracting business, but not before he proves he’s capable of the work by restoring my home. Which he’s doing for free, might I add. And he’s done a damn fine job so far.”
“For free? Nan…that doesn’t seem right…”
“Dear, sweet Kennedy.” She squished my cheeks between her hands so my lips puckered out. “W
hat doesn’t seem right is your assessment of the man. Now, if you don’t take me to lunch soon, I’m going to call Prison Guard Emmanuel and tell him to take a minute off your timer.”
I leveled a finger her way. “That’s cruel.”
Casting a curious glance to my silent neighbor on the way out, we piled into the Honda and I took the scenic route, past the pool—which did look pretty inviting—and the workout facility—which was larger than I thought.
Nan gave me the side-eye.
I grinned. “Can’t fault me for trying.”
She shrugged. “You wouldn’t be a Monroe if you gave up without a fight.”
Chapter Nine
Kennedy
Nan fought dirty. She must have made good on her promise to call Emmanuel. That was the only explanation for the hell I’d been experiencing at work. He glared at me as I stepped out of exam room four—just like he’d been doing for the last three hours. “You’re three minutes over.” He tapped the face of his Apple Watch and arched a brow.
“And you’re mean,” I muttered under my breath as I placed my laptop on the nurse’s station and finished typing in notes on my last patient.
Doctor Ramsey Middleton arrived beside me in a cloud of confidence and cologne. “Running behind?”
“Just a little.”
Emmanuel beamed and danced in his seat like a cultist in the presence of his leader. “Good afternoon, Doctor Middleton. Having a good day?”
“The best. As usual.” Ramsey leaned in, obliterating my view of Emmanuel and giving me ample opportunity to appreciate his bone structure—which was exquisite, by the way. “Why don’t we meet for drinks after work.” His dark eyes glittered. “I’ll give you some tips on time management.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d asked me out—always under professional pretense. Between volunteering at the clinic and my general disdain for dating, I’d yet to accept.
Today wouldn’t be any different.
“I have plans with my mom.” Twin Dragons takeout and a Netflix original featuring many, many shirtless shots of men with bone structure that put even Ramsey to shame.
The power of Emmanuel’s eye roll hit me in the back. If the fact that I cared for my patients wasn’t enough gasoline to fuel his hatred of me, the fact that I consistently turned Doctor Dreamboat down sealed the deal. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn he’d date Ramsey in a heartbeat, despite the picture of his wife and kids on his homescreen.
Doctor Middleton tapped the end of my nose.
I slow-blinked. Since when did co-workers boop each other in casual conversation?
“One of these days, Monroe. You’ll take me up on my offer and this guy and his timer will thank me for the fabulous advice I give you.”
I bristled, then smoothed my hackles as Ramsey gathered his laptop and swept into exam room two with a bright “Hello!” Exhaustion had me imagining condescension where it didn’t exist.
The rest of the day slogged by in a series of patients who genuinely needed my attention. A little boy with autism who struggled to adapt to changes in school. A toddler with a cough that broke his mother’s heart. A teenager with troubling symptoms of cardiovascular issues. These children, their parents, they deserved my sympathy. My time. They deserved to have me sit in there with them until they had the tools to move forward with knowledge instead of fear.
With each patient, the frown lines in Emmanuel’s face deepened until I feared his lips would disappear altogether. I fought the urge to gift him with Joe’s favorite gesture. The man was just doing his job, even if he did approach ruining my day with too much glee. I made it out of the office with a friendly wave from Ramsey and a sweet drawing from my last patient clutched in my hand. Three beaming stick figures with scribbled hair and too many fingers held hands under a yellow circle sun. “Thank you 4 macking me fell beter” scrawled in crayon across the top. It would go on my fridge and I would smile every time I saw it.
I drove home without music—Imagine! Too tired for Collin West!—and parked in front of my apartment, unable to process the scene in front of me. Jake and Paul/ette/ine/yana’s door hung open. Water streamed off their steps. My door was open, too. As was the one that belonged to my favorite quiet neighbor. Maintenance workers swarmed the area, glancing at me with a mixture of irritation and pity as I cautiously entered my home. The carpet squelched under my feet and something skittered up the wall. I squeaked, catching the attention of the apartment manager who stood in the middle of my living room with her hands covering her face.
“Doctor Monroe!” She rocketed my way, shooing me toward the door, as she glanced at another darting wall-skitterer. “It’s better if we talk outside,” she said with a shiver.
I listened in disbelief as she outlined the problem. My oh-so-fun neighbors had installed an inflatable hot tub in their living room and filled it using a hose attached to their kitchen sink. While they were at work, something had pierced the tub…presumably the cat they weren’t supposed to have, or quite possibly Fate herself—as retribution for being so stupid.
All two hundred and ten gallons of water had flooded their apartment.
And mine.
And Captain Quiet beside me, because…wouldn’t you know, the Chaos Twins left the water running on their way out the door
“So…now what?”
“Well. Unfortunately, Mr. Barnhart—” she jerked her thumb toward my other neighbor with a shudder “—had a bit of a bug problem. The water spurred them to find dryer ground, so now you do, too.”
I rubbed my forehead. “So I live in a wet, bug-infested apartment?”
“I wouldn’t live in there if I were you.” Her wide eyes and panicked expression had me wondering about the extent of the damage.
“How long do you expect this to be a problem?”
“Only for the next few days.” She grinned hopefully. Turned out, she was as good a liar as I was.
They planned to call an exterminator to deal with the bugs and a contractor to replace anything with water damage. The ruined furniture would be covered by my renter’s insurance. “But, you’ll probably want to find somewhere else to stay for a few weeks.”
Still half-convinced I’d fallen asleep at the office, I nodded. “I thought you said a few days.”
She grimaced. “Until everything’s fixed, which could maybe take a month. Or two. If everything goes well.”
I nodded again. Then glanced up as Mr. Barnhart lumbered out of his apartment. No wonder the woman had shivered at the thought of him. And double no wonder he had a bug problem. I would never look at a too-quiet neighbor the same.
Squishing through my apartment, I packed several bags of clothes, toiletries, and other necessities, then perched on the hood of my car and called Mom.
“I was just starting to worry about you,” she said. “Did you have another long day?”
“You could say that.” I filled her in.
“I just can’t…how…I…I don’t have words, Kennedy.” Mom let out a long breath. “You’re welcome to stay here. We could share a bed. Or I’ll sleep on the couch and you can have my room. It’ll be like when you were a little girl again.”
“I’m not putting you out of your room and I’m sorry, I love you, you know I do. But you snore like an obese bulldog. I think I’m better off at Nana Maxine’s, as long as the ceiling doesn’t fall and kill me.”
Mom snorted. “Her house can’t be that bad…”
“Maybe I’m exaggerating. A little.”
We said our goodbyes and I called Nan to explain what happened.
When I finished telling her about my too-quiet neighbor, she tsked. “That’s the first thing you learn raising kids, silence means something very bad is about to happen. It’s the calm before the wet, roach infested apartment.”
I bobbed my head as the hot tub duo ambled out of their apartment, looking jazzed by the experience. “Hey, neighbor! Can you believe it?” Paul-whatever tossed her hair and giggled. “I mean who would have th
ought, you know?”
“Right.” I tried not to growl. “Who would have thought?”
They climbed into the car next to mine and exchanged a high-five.
Nan cleared her throat. “Funny thing. My neighbors can flood their house without ruining my day.”
“Go ahead. Laugh it up. You’ve earned it.”
“I assume you’d like a room in my deathtrap?”
“I could just stay in the guesthouse so I won’t be in your way.”
“That would be awkward, since Joe’s staying there and you two can’t stand each other.”
My eyes widened and I dropped my head in my hand. How could I forget my arch nemesis? For that matter, how could I be in a situation where I’d almost be living with him?
I waved the proverbial white flag. If this was my punishment for trying to pull a fast one on Nan the other day, I promised I’d never try to lie again.
“You’re welcome to stay in the spare room upstairs for as long as you need. It’ll be good to have you around.”
“Thanks,” I began, at the same time she said, “And Joe has been spending more time without a shirt, so, you know, bonus points.”
“Nan. No. Too far.” Even as I protested, my libido gave the image of shirtless Joe an enthusiastic two thumbs up. Maybe I needed to take Ramsey up on his offer of drinks next time, just to give myself someone else to fawn over. “You’re almost as bad as Delores.”
“No one’s as bad as Delores,” Nan said with a sigh.
I had to admit she had a point. “I promised Mom I’d bring her dinner, but are you good if I come by after? It’ll be late-ish. Like nine, or so?”
“Remind me. Which one of us is the old woman?” Nan laughed. “Nine o’clock isn’t late, roomie. See ya then!”
Chapter Ten
Joe
“I still can’t believe that stupid disguise works.” I shook my head at my brother, who had his arm around his wife’s shoulders and a grin the size of the Pyramid of Giza.
Collin tugged at his ballcap and adjusted the brown wig covering his red hair. “Harlow was right,” he said, giving her a squeeze. “People are too caught up in themselves to pay much attention to anyone else.”