So, when Lexi texted this morning, I jumped at the opportunity to catch up with her and her new husband, Cannon, over lunch. When the menus showed up and I ordered the small mixed green salad, my friends offered to suffer along with me in salad purgatory but that would have been selfish. It's not every day that we come to Gallo’s, the finest Italian eatery north of Chicago. I want them to enjoy their meal.
Even though watching them eat actual food—and love all over each other—is pure torture.
"Pass a taste of that spaghetti over here, Stormy.” Cannon juts his chin at his wife's meal and gives a billion-dollar grin.
Cartoon hearts shoot from Lexi’s eyes when she turns to her husband and feeds him the pasta. He bites the fork and growls. She giggles like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever seen.
I feel so single right now.
In any case, I may be in a bad place right this minute but I have every intention of dusting myself off and getting back up. A new relationship is way, way down at the bottom of my list of life goals but I want all the other stuff. A thriving business, a comfortable home, a growing bank account, and most importantly, a strong healthy body that will make my ex eat his rotten heart out.
True—my ass hurts from all those squats and my house smells like steamed broccoli all the time. But it'll be worth it in the end.
Grabbing the salt shaker, I add a dash of sea salt to my salad and take another bite. Now, I'm eating salted dirt. Awesome.
My phone vibrates on the tabletop, and I glance down at the alert that my bank account is below my arbitrary warning amount. In other words, if I don’t make a deposit soon, my next couple bills will send me into the red. I shut my eyes in frustration.
Unfortunately, this has become my new normal. Ever since the divorce, I’ve been living month-to-month, struggling to figure out a reliable source of income. I need to come up with something. And quick.
My bestie guzzles down her glass of water then motions to our waiter for a refill. She leans forward and pastes a huge smile across her face. "So, the reason we asked you to lunch is because—”
Cannon's phone dings next to his plate. He and Lexi share a weird look. They've got some major non-verbal communication stuff going on. I'm not privy to the meaning. Cannon drops a quick kiss on his wife's cheek then excuses himself from the table to take the phonecall.
Lexi's eyes come back to me. “Anyway, your spare room is still available to rent, right?”
“Yup." I heave a sigh.
For rent: One bedroom in a quaint non-smoking bungalow with yours truly. Another one of my failed business ventures.
Every time someone inquires and finds out that the house is occupied by the owner, they ghost me. No one’s jumping at the opportunity to be my roomie. Not that I blame them. An owner-occupied property usually means a nosey landlord watching your every move. Privacy goes out the window and rowdy parties are off the table.
Anyway, it's probably for the best. As a woman living alone, I'm not wild about having to share my home with a complete stranger. You hear all these crazy stories on the news. The last thing I want is to take in a psycho-killer and end up as a tarp-burrito in a shallow grave in my backyard.
Lexi claps excitedly, wearing a too-big smile. “Oh, perfect! Cannon actually knows someone who's looking for a place to rent for a while.” She takes another drink of her water.
A hopeful feeling takes root at my friend’s declaration. “Really?”
She nods and wiggles around in her seat. “Yup. And that’s not the best part..." She almost sounds like an infomercial host trying to close a sale. But wait—there's more. All for three low payments of $19.99... "This renter will be able to pay double what you’re asking online,” she continues.
My eyebrows jump to my hairline. "Double?" I look to Cannon with his phone pressed to his ear, pacing the sidewalk outside, a no-nonsense expression on his handsome face. When our eyes meet, he lifts a finger to indicate that he's about to wrap up his call.
"Double,” she confirms, nodding with enthusiasm. I have to admit I'm getting sort of excited.
“So, who's this mysterious renter?" I ask. I take another bite of my salad. Suddenly, it doesn't taste that bad.
Lexi's eyes dart to the window before rebounding to my face. “Um, Cannon has all the details." She takes another big gulp from her glass. Almost like she's trying to avoid my question. "Gosh, are you hot? I'm hot." With her next sip, she empties the glass. "I've been drinking water like a camel these days.”
Lexi and her husband make eye contact through the window. They exchange a series of baffling hand gestures and head shakes and facial expressions I won't even pretend to understand.
"Gimme a sec to run to the little girl's room. When Cannon gets back, we'll go over everything together with you." Then she urgently gets up from the table and rushes off toward the bathroom.
Something doesn’t seem right. Is it just me or are those two being sort of cagey about this?
I shrug off the suspicion. Dammit—Kirk's betrayal has made me so paranoid. I trust Alexia, and Cannon, by extension. I won't let my failed marriage plant seeds of doubt in my head. If this potential renter is coming on Lexi's recommendation, they must be a decent person.
Cannon disconnects his call and returns to the table. He blows out a relieved breath. "I'm really glad you're able to help us out with this, Iris." He gives me a quick smile then starts tapping away at his phone.
"Yeah, of course..." I glance toward the bathrooms. No sign of Lexi yet.
He goes on. "You're taking a huge load off of us. Alexia and I are newly-weds. The last thing we need right now is a houseguest, y'know?"
"I do know."
Those two are hot for each other around the clock. They spend pretty much all their time attached at the genitals unless they can help it. I can see why they wouldn't want any third parties under their roof.
Still,
