See How She Runs (The Chronicles of Izzy #1)(3)
“Funny you should say anything, Darling. He seems to be quite taken with you. In fact, he says he will pay double the service fee to guarantee that you are the only courier to bring his documents from now on." I could just see the dollar signs tap dancing behind Mike’s eyes. My hackles were raised and there was no repressing my temper.
“Cheese on a cracker, are you seriously going to pimp me out to this man? He gives me a royal case of the heebie jeebies. Not to mention he is like the poster child for bi-polarity. Are you telling me I am now the designated step and fetch for that man? Did you agree to this?" The rage building inside me was about to make me explode. Mike, meanwhile was about to pee his pants, laughing at my outburst.
“While the money is tempting, doll, you know I don’t do designated runs for anyone. I told him that if he wanted to continue using our service I would provide any available courier to get the job done as quickly as possible, but that if you were available I would send you. He seemed to accept that little scrap I threw his way. I am not going to have one of my best couriers waiting around just in case he needs a document pronto. No worries. Now go home before I have to pay your skinny little ass overtime." That, in a nutshell, was the way I knew Mike loved me.
I made it back to my grandmother’s old house around seven. She left me everything when she passed away. The house itself was two stories and sat on a street where most of the houses had been converted into apartments. Grams liked her house whole and refused to modify it. I liked it whole as well. What I didn’t like was having to pay the ridiculous property taxes all on my lonesome every year. So, I took in a roommate about a month after she passed. Plus, the house was just too dang quiet with no one else there.
I had known Kennan, or as everyone lovingly calls him K.O., almost as long as my Grams had been with our Maker. I started going down the way to a pub several nights a week just to escape the quiet of the old brick house. He just happened to bartend there five nights a week and thus we became quickly acquainted. One night he mentioned that his roommate was getting married and he needed to find some new digs and quick.
The cartoon light over my head clicked on and I thought, ‘I have a giant house, why not.’ It had been awesome ever since. Granted, we work opposite schedules, but when we were both off we were dang near inseparable. He was wicked awesome in a completely platonic sort of way.
As soon as I stepped inside, I was assaulted by the best smelling thing I had encountered all day. Deep dish pepperoni pizza. I was in love. With my nose leading me into the kitchen like some ridiculous cartoon character, I ran smack into the chest of one Kennan O’Malley. He was about six foot three and built like a thick Irish boxer. All barrel chest and arms and trim waist and legs. According to his driver’s license, he was almost thirty-three. I snuck it out of his wallet one night to check. I suppose most girls thought he was alarmingly handsome with his smiling blue eyes and jet black hair. Hence the nick name, K.O., as in knock out. But he was Kennan to me; trusty roommate, confidant, and purveyor of drink. He snickered at me and steadied my shoulders with his large beer-opening calloused hands.
“Let me guess, Iz, you smelled the food." His deep voice rumbled through him and there always seemed to be just a bit of laughter in everything he said. He was like a jolly trickster leprechaun guarding his pot of gold. Yeah, if only I had known about his practical joke streak before he moved in.
“Hey, don’t judge, I had to skip lunch today. And besides, you know that is my favorite. Please tell me you saved me at least one piece. If not, the cheese stuck to the box will have to do." Even to my own ears I sounded pathetic. If he didn’t feed me half the time, I didn’t think I would eat.
“I got two pizzas, Red. You know I wouldn’t let my favorite girl go hungry. Anyway, I am out the door to work. See ya on the flip side, homey." He leaned down and kissed me on top of my head, like he had a million times before, and would probably do a million times more. He effectively turned me into someone that must be all of thirteen and not the twenty-five year-old woman I really was. Well almost twenty-five, in less than a week.
“You are so not gangster, K.O., give up while you are ahead. Are you off tomorrow? We need to veg, and I seriously need to tell you about the creeper new client!" I hoped that the desperation in my voice wasn’t obvious. In reality, Kennan was my only real friend. Pathetic. I really should get out more.
“Come by the bar later and tell me about your creeper. I am off tomorrow so we can veg tomorrow night, barring I have any hot dates." Keenan winked at me and was out the door.
I sat on the couch, eating my weight in pizza, debating whether or not I should down to the pub. It was a Tuesday night after all, so they would not be that busy. After a twenty minute internal debate over the merits of time spent in society versus the comfort of the couch, I decided to suck it up and go.
I ran upstairs to take a shower and change into something a bit nicer. Not that I was out trolling for guys or anything. But it had been a while. Okay, it had been two years since my last real date. Ever since Grams died, I had not been asked out once. But who’s counting?
After taking the most amazing shower, I turned on some Arcade Fire and started getting ready. Kennan hated my music, so I took any chance available to blast it while he was not around. I got to my closet and immediately realized why it had been two years since my last date.
Almost every article hanging within its depths related to practical work purposes. Reluctantly, I grabbed a pair of skinny jeans and a tunic style t-shirt. I threw on some mascara and headed to the door to pull on my black knee boots and my jacket. I shuffled out the door with the realization if I didn’t up my game, there would be no dates in my future. With a heavy sigh, I locked the door and started to walk the distance between our place and the bar. I did not believe in drinking and biking. I had enough trouble staying on it sober.