Moth(18)

“That’s good to know, I suppose.” She smiles again. “The Ravioli Grill is looking for waiters, but you’ll probably make around the same money.”

“Yeah, I need something that fills my pockets.” I pause for a second. “I’ll find something. Everything happens for a reason, so it’s only a matter of time before I find what I’m looking for. Do you have a job?”

“Yes. I work for a pharmaceutical company.”

“Wow, really? How do you make the time?”

“They’re good with my schedule. I’m majoring in the medical sciences, so it’s a dream position. I’m basically a shitty paid intern, but I do get money, which is more than some. When I started I made nothing. My supervisor wants to slowly help me work my way into a better paying position, then I can already have something in place once I have my degree.”

“You have everything planned out. Damn, you’re so lucky. I don’t have shit in order. I’m only attending school so the people around me will shut up.”

“What do you want to do?”

“You really want to know?”

She nods. “Sure.”

“I want to be rich, but not have to work hard, like a professional poker player, or a lottery winner.”

“So you like to gamble?”

This leaves me open for another cocky statement. “It depends on the stakes.”

She catches on quick. “And if the stakes are high, do you throw everything all in?”

We’re flirting with each other, and I can’t stop. Criminal or not, she’s hard to restrain from. “Definitely.”

She leans back in her chair, takes a sip of her concoction and stares me straight in the eyes. “You’re interesting, Mr. Theroit.”

“Moth,” I correct.

I watch as she crosses her legs. I start imagining the scene in Basic Instinct with Sharon Stone where she’s being interrogated and inappropriately shows her beaver. I say beaver, because it’s true. “What are you doing Friday night, Moth?”

Is she asking me out? Can I refuse? Should I? Wouldn’t this give me the best chance at learning everything we can’t find out otherwise? “Why? Are you thinking about inviting me to your place and seeing if I’m telling the truth? I can assure you…”

She covers her mouth like she’s embarrassed, but interrupts anyway. “No. I don’t mess around with men I meet in parking lots. If you think getting into my pants is that easy you’ve got a lot to learn about me. I can promise I’m very hard to convince otherwise.”

She’s right. I do.

“What then?”

“I’m invited to a private party. I wondered if you’d want to join me. I need someone to have my back just in case other men have the same ideas as you are right now.”

“Sounds interesting.” I want to laugh. She’s reading everything I want her to, but now I can’t tell if this is a game or for real. Is she playing me, or is it the other way around? With every glance I’m captivated. It’s dangerous and way out of character for me.

“Where can I pick you up?”

It’s time to see if she reacts to my new address. I spit out the house number and street and wait for her to put two and two together. Her eyes widen.

“What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head and pretends to be fine. “Nothing. I used to know someone who lived there.”

“Really? I don’t know any of the guys there. I found the room in the paper.” I play stupid to make it seem as if I’m oblivious.

“You know one of the guys is dead, right?”

“What?” I act shocked. “Are you f*cking kidding me?”

“You’re not in the room upstairs on the right are you?”

“As a matter of fact, yeah I am. Why? You’re freaking me out. I just moved in yesterday.”

I watch her face turn pale as if the life is being swiftly drained from her body. She appears as if she’s about to puke. “That was his room.” She begins shaking her hands around. “This is creeping me out?” She stands like she’s going to walk away. “What the hell?”

I join her. “I’m officially spooked. How did you know the guy? Was he your boyfriend? Don’t tell me you dated him.”

She stops dead in her tracks. Her face reddens. I can tell she’s scared of something. “It wasn’t like that. His name was Jamie. He was…” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. No. He wasn’t my boyfriend.”

“Do you think I should get my deposit back?” I’m pressing her to see how she reacts to each question. Will this deter her from wanting to get to know me more? Have I hit a dead end? Or am I getting somewhere?

“If it bothers you then yes. If not, I don’t see why you would. The people who live there are different. They’re a little too intellectual for my taste. I don’t understand half of their conversations and I’m a science major, but whatever floats your boat. It’s not my first choice of places to stay, but you have to do what is right for you.”

“So I’m living with a bunch of nerds, in a house that could possibly be haunted?”

“You totally don’t fit in at all.” She seems amused, and I gather she’s not thinking I have anything to do with Jamie. It appears she’s taking it as an honest coincidence. So far she’s passing that test.