Landlord Wars(5)

My eyebrows rose. Jack didn’t come across as a player, but what the hell did I know? “It’s like that, is it?”

He chuckled. “Not exactly. But lately I’ve been antisocial for various reasons, and I should probably get over it.”

There was a story there I hoped to hear one day. “You’re doing better than me. It’s been almost a year since I broke up with my ex, and I haven’t gone out once.”

He nodded. “We’re a perfect match. We can sit around and cry while watching romantic comedies.”

I chuckled and pulled out the steaming mug. “You paint a charming picture, but I’m trying to have a life now that I’m living here.” I dipped the tea bag in the mug and limped back to the barstool.

“What’s wrong with your foot?” he asked. “You hurt yourself?”

“Women’s fashion hurts me.”

He shook his head slowly. “Why do women wear high heels?”

“Because men think we look hot in them?”

He held up his hands. “I personally don’t care.”

“You say that now, but if a woman walked in wearing a miniskirt, with long legs in heels…”

“I’d marvel at how she balanced and think of nothing inappropriate.” His look was expressionless, which gave him away. He was trying too hard, and I saw right through it.

“Sure you would.” I held up my bloody heel, careful not to flash him in my work skirt. “We do it with a pound of flesh.”

He cringed. “Got it. Keep in mind, we’ll look even if you wear comfortable shoes, so don’t blame us.” He scratched his stubbled jaw and seemed to consider something. “How old did you say your sister was?” His tone held interest.

Oh, hell no. “Stay away from my baby sister!”

He grinned devilishly. “Noted. Besides, I’m damaged goods with all the baggage I’ve got going on. I’ll take the kettle corn and resume my video-game marathon with strangers in the privacy of my bedroom.”

I laughed and watched him pad down the hallway. We had the perfect setup with en suite bedrooms on opposite sides of the hall. I never heard Jack once he entered his room.

The tension from a long day of work eased from my shoulders. With Jack’s support, my sister staying the night was doable.





Chapter Three





Sophia





The next evening, I met up with Elise at our favorite dim sum restaurant to celebrate my new apartment. This was gonna work, even if I had to ass-kiss the landlord until my lips were chapped. At least Jack was willing to let Elise stay over.

I dug into my massive multipurpose bag that was function over form, carrying my laptop, shoes, and beauty essentials, and searched for a scrap of paper. I’d scribbled the reservation confirmation on it and shoved it in here, but now I couldn’t find it. The situation was made worse by the fact that I hadn’t cleaned out my bag in a week, and everything I owned was inside.

I glanced at the hostess, who was clad in a black dress and stylish glasses halfway down her nose. “I’m so sorry. I have the confirmation here somewhere.”

Nom Tea Parlor was the best dim sum in town. You booked reservations online for lunch and dinner or you didn’t get in. It was also expensive as all get-out. Moving in with Jack was a big deal for me, so I’d been skimping on other luxuries, like afternoon mochas, to celebrate the occasion. Which was also why I’d booked a table days ago. If only I could find the darn slip of paper with the confirmation code!

“Name?” the hostess asked.

I rattled off my name.

The hostess scrolled a computer screen then said, “I don’t see it here.”

Wearing a moss-green lantern dress she’d picked up off Shein for about fifteen bucks, and dressed to honor the occasion, Elise nudged me in the side with her elbow. “There’s a line behind us.”

Perspiration prickled beneath my arms as I dug around in my purse. “I know, I know.”

“Well, do something,” she said, “or we should leave. Someone just walked in, and you don’t want to see who it is.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I looked behind us, exactly what Elise had warned me not to do.

My chest constricted, closing off airflow.

“Paul just walked in,” she said needlessly, her wavy dark-brown hair partially blocking my view because Elise didn’t know personal space. But I didn’t need the full view.

Paul was making his way to the hostess, and he looked like a K-pop star, with his glossy black hair lightened to a reddish brown. He was wearing a black T-shirt that was tight on his biceps and slim at the waist. Knowing what he spent on clothing, the shirt alone must have cost as much as I earned in a day. More importantly, he was holding the hand of his new fiancée.

I’d been told his fiancée was exactly the nice Korean girl his mother had dreamed of for him. Apparently, she came from a wealthy family who was richer than Paul’s, and that was saying something. It was a wonder he ever dated me knowing I was making my way through graduate school on scholarships and student loans. Not exactly rich-girl material.

Paul’s family owned a popular café chain in town, but in graduate school we were all on a level playing field. I hadn’t wanted a boyfriend at the time; relentless financial stress will do that to you. But Paul brought me lattes before class, and even though I don’t drink lattes, I’d appreciated the effort.