He glances up to catch me staring and gives me an odd look. Flustered, I turn back to the shelf and yank out a bunch of books.
“Or you could try these.” I thrust the pile into his hands.
He shuffles through the titles and pulls one out on top. “What about this one?”
I tilt my head to look at the cover. Oops. I should have chosen more carefully because that book—Three Months on the Appalachian Trail—isn’t good. Well, I don’t know for certain because I haven’t read it, but I do remember a customer back home saying something about it being disappointing for some reason. And I can’t very well have him buy it and then think I don’t know what I’m talking about, so I just carry on as if I’d read it last week.
“Oh, there are much better books. I’d definitely recommend the other one over that.”
He lifts his eyebrows. “Really? Why’s that?”
“Well, er… this one has some good points, but it doesn’t give very detailed information about the, uh”—I scramble for the right words, my face hot—“topography… and all that.”
“The topography?”
“Yes… of the mountain ranges and the terrain and—” I break off with a vague gesture. “You know.” I give him a meaningful look, as if we are both experienced hikers who have a shared knowledge of such things and therefore they don’t need to be spoken aloud.
He cocks his head to one side, his brow furrowed. Somehow, I don’t think he’s buying my spiel.
Dammit.
For good measure, I throw in a few more details. “I also think it had bad reviews. Plus, er, the author isn’t very well-known or respected.” I give him a smug smile. See, I know my stuff.
But he narrows his eyes at me. “Really?”
Shit. I don’t know.
“Well, the last thing I want is for you to buy something that’s only going to disappoint.”
He gives an indignant huff, but I can’t for the life of me figure out why. I open my mouth to say something more and he cuts me off.
“Never mind.” He leans past me to place the books back. Before I can stop myself, I inhale his scent again and my breath catches in my throat.
“Sorry I can’t be more helpful,” I mumble, my cheeks burning.
He rubs the back of his neck, gazing at me with that deep frown etched on his face, then sighs. “It’s fine. Thanks.” Then he strides towards the door before I can say anything more.
Geoff appears beside me out of nowhere, wide-eyed. “Who was that?”
I hesitate. I’m hardly going to tell Geoff he’s Cat’s neighbor, in case it gets back to Cat that I’m—for reasons I can’t quite fathom—pissing him off and causing tension in the building. I mean, Agnes loves him, so Cat probably thinks he’s the bee’s knees too. It’s just me who can’t seem to get along with him.
“Just… a guy I accidentally spilled coffee on a few weeks ago. He was impatient and rude and… I don’t know. He was a bit of a jerk.”
Geoff rolls his eyes. “Ugh, I know the type. Too busy thinking about himself to worry about anyone else. And I bet that’s an expensive suit.”
I nod. “He’s the kind of person I imagine when I think of New Yorkers: rude, impatient, career-obsessed.”
Geoff pretends to look hurt and I laugh, shaking my head at him. Because that’s what I like about Cat and Geoff. They’re nothing like that.
“Well,” Geoff says, patting me on the arm reassuringly, “I’m sure the nonsense you were spouting about that book put him off coming back.”
I cringe. God, he heard that? I bet I’ve lost the job now. I open my mouth to apologize, but Geoff just laughs.
“It’s okay. We don’t want him here anyway,” he says. Then adds quietly, “Even if he is gorgeous.”
11
Not a brilliant first day at work. Well, the morning was great but seeing Michael just kind of killed the afternoon. I don’t know what that guy’s problem is.
Anyway, I’ve got bigger issues right now. Cat texted me just as I was leaving work to say that we need to discuss our living situation, and I’m pretty sure she’s going to tell me she wants her living room back. I can’t blame her, right? I’ve been on her sofa for two and half weeks, which she probably wasn’t counting on when she offered me a place to crash. I wasn’t planning on staying there that long.
I try to think happy thoughts on the walk back from work—new job, yay! Geoff is lovely, yay!—but by the time I’m entering the apartment, my stomach is turning like a corkscrew. Because if Cat kicks me out, none of that will matter.
She’s standing on a step-ladder in the living room, hanging some curtains in the corner when I enter. Stevie bounds over to me, jumping up my leg and demanding a pat as I close the door. I stoop to pet her head with a sigh. I’m going to miss this pup.
Cat glances over as I place my bag on the counter. “Oh good, you’re home.”
“Hey.” I pick Stevie up to cuddle, taking a deep breath to prepare for what’s coming. “You wanted to talk about the apartment, yeah?”
“Yes!” She grins as she climbs down the ladder.
“I haven’t found a place yet, but I can hopefully get out of your hair in the next couple days. Would that be okay? I just need to—”
“Wait. You think I’m asking you to leave?”
“Er…” I scratch my nose. “Well, yeah.”
“No! I had an idea that could work for both of us.” She pauses, chewing her lip. “Would you consider living here? I can’t offer you a room, but there’s that area over there.” She gestures to the corner of the living room where she was hanging the curtains. I notice her sewing stuff is gone, and there’s a bed and dresser tucked behind the partition wall. “I know it’s not ideal, but I won’t charge you anywhere near what
