"The demo crew came today. Mr. Moneybags is in a hurry to get his luxury apartments built."
I was only half paying attention to what she was saying. My mind reeling from the fact that I’d just announced to Carol that Nola was my wife. Maybe I didn't want to be married to her. It's not good to start a marriage with secrets. She got in that house one way or another, and I intended to find out how. It was one thing to use someone's outdoor shower and hammock. Breaking into the house was an entirely different thing. But then again, she was friends with the owners. Maybe she had managed to talk with them.
"Are you going to tell me how you got inside the house? No breaking and entering, I hope!"
"It's not breaking and entering unless you break something. I only entered."
This was getting out of hand. I ran a hand over my face and lowered my voice. "Well, we can’t stand around here arguing. The neighbors are probably listening. We need to get out of here."
"And go where?"
I opened my mouth to retort, but I had nothing to say.
She nodded as though she were reading my mind. "There’s nothing wrong with staying here. It’s a perfectly reasonable option until something else comes along."
If she put it that way...it’s not like it would be permanent. More like a small stop on the way to a permanent home. I nodded.
"Good, I’m glad you see how this can benefit the both of us. We can stay in this nice empty house, live close to our work, and live in a nice neighborhood." Her eyes sparkled as she listed the pros.
"And now we have a homeowner's association meeting tonight. My lovely wife."
"Oh, well, that sounds like something that's all you. I'm still getting settled in, remember?" Her impish grin looked like nothing but trouble.
"I brought all the groceries I had in my apartment," she said, as she opened the back door. "I didn't know you were going to be here, or I would have stopped at the store and grabbed some more." I followed her inside, the sliding glass door led into a large dining room with hardwood floors.
She continued, "You know, Berty—"
"It's Bane," I muttered.
"Right. Blaine, like I was saying, it really surprised me to see you showering in the backyard."
My face heated as I skirted around the tall backed chairs surrounding a black dining room table.
"I only mean that you seem so strict. Like a true rule-follower. I can't believe you took my advice and actually stayed at the house. I think it's brilliant. It makes me like you so much more."
"I can't decide if that was a compliment, insult, or statement."
She shrugged as she opened the fridge. "I like to save time and wrap all of those into one. Besides, don’t stress. Remember that I know the owners. This will work great for us. Do you want a grapefruit?"
"Sure, I’ll take a grapefruit. How do you know this will work for us?"
She ignored my question and pulled two grapefruit out of the fridge. "Now that I realize I could never date you I don't know why I didn't just go put the grapefruit back on the stand. I shouldn’t have been so worried about impressing you."
She set the grapefruit on the counter and began rummaging around in the drawers, as if she hadn't just told me she wasn't attracted to me.
"Wait—why don't you have to impress me now?"
"Don't take it personally." She looked at me in surprise.
"Of course not," I said. But, of course, I did take it personally. Anytime someone started a speech with 'don't take it personally' it was a guaranteed insult.
She pulled a knife from a drawer and began slicing the fruit on a wooden cutting board. "I realized that I'm not interested in you. I mean, isn't that the most freeing thing in the world?"
I rubbed my lips together as I debated my answer. She wasn't wrong. There was freedom in not caring what someone thought. But why wasn't she interested in me? It was going to bother me until I found out. "Let me get this straight. You were interested in me, but now you're not?"
She passed me half a grapefruit and a spoon. "You're a good-looking guy. Of course you’re attractive. But then I got to know your personality, and I realized you and I together just wouldn’t work. It took care of that attraction. I really didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
She almost looked apologetic. Almost.
I hummed. "Thanks, I think."
"Right, so like I was saying, it really is perfect. We can stay here and pretend to be husband and wife and go about our lives. We'll be like the perfect roommates. We won't have to be around each other, and there are no hard feelings because neither of us is interested in the other."
"And what do we do if someone catches us here?"
"Well, I know it’s okay to stay here, but it would be harder to explain to the neighbors. That’s why we might as well pretend to be married and own this house."
I squeezed the grapefruit. "Pretending to be married is the worst idea I’ve ever heard."
Nola narrowed her eyes at me. "Are you always so pessimistic, Bert?"
"Are you always so annoying?" I smiled as I asked.
"Yes. It's one of my better qualities; at least that's what my kids tell me."
I dropped the spoon on the counter. "What do you mean your kids?"
I glanced over my shoulder and listened for the sound of pitter-pattering feet. Maybe Maya had been hers. I hadn’t stopped to consider it. I assumed Nola had been a nanny to the girl.
Nola laughed. "Not my kids. The kids I work with. I work in a group
