"Oh, you've conveniently realized that after you hauled me from the shower?" Her derision was probably well-placed, but it rankled me anyway.
"I did not know who you were then. I thought I had an intruder in my home." I held up my phone. "But I just got a text from my mom."
"Yes, I told you, this is my apartment. I signed the lease yesterday after your mom offered it to me. I know it sounds crazy, given the timeframe and how little she's charging me—"
"Wait." I held up a hand, stopping her. "She'scharging you?"
"Yeah," Gemma replied slowly.
I gritted my teeth. "That's rich."
"Well, I'm not rich," Gemma pointed out with some amusement. "Which is why your mom said she would charge me what I spent on my last apartment." She'd put on a tank top with a soft, swooping back, and the matching loungewear pants hugged her hips before falling away into buttery pleats to her toes. She looked cozy and far too at home for my comfort level. She wasn't supposed to even be here.
"She shouldn't be charging you anything. I already pay the full price of what this place is worth."
Slow recognition lightened her features. "So, your mother signed us both as lessees of the same apartment. Why?"
I held out my phone again, flashing the lease at her. She looked at it, her eyes crossing slightly as she tried to see what I was showing her. "Because it was a trap."
Gemma's face went pale. She swallowed before scratching out, "I was afraid of that."
"Then why on earth did you sign this?" I demanded. "Did you read it?"
Gemma rubbed her temples. "I need a drink."
"We aren't drinking, we're figuring out how the hell we both ended up signing leases for the same apartment that stipulated the only grounds for termination would be in the event of our marriage."
Gemma's gaze flew to mine, and her pink lips parted in mute shock. Behind me, through the open bedroom doorway, the sound of the dog's whine floated through the air.My sentiments exactly, I thought wryly. Gemma looked over my shoulder, her expression suddenly tight with panic. "I need to walk Mini."
"Mini?" I turned to follow her as she shoved past me and out into the dining room. "That monster's name is Mini?"
Gemma shot me a scathing look over her shoulder as she walked. "Yes. It's a perfect name for her. Just look at her."
"That thing hasn't been a 'mini' anything in its life," I said, aghast.
"Her name is adorably ironic," Gemma replied, like it should have been obvious. She reached the dog's kennel, which was literally the size of a canoe, and unlatched the door to release her hellhound. She held onto the pink, glittery collar, giving me a worried glance again. "She might try to kill you. You're a stranger in my house."
"This is not your house," I reminded her. "And did you miss the part where I mentioned marriage?"
"Oh, I'm pretty sure I misheard you because that's total lunacy and you are mistaken. Sit, Mini. Good girl. Okay, listen, he's annoying, and he smells like broccoli, but don't kill him." Gemma smoothed her hand down the Doberman's head and neck soothingly, talking low and in a baby voice. "We don't want to go to jail. No, that wouldn't be good, would it, baby? Oh, you're such a good girl." The dog regarded me with shifting, pointy ears and an interested gleam in its dark eyes.
I sniffed my shoulder.Broccoli?
"Come on, Mini. Walk? You want to walk?"
The dog got excited, standing from her sitting pose and wagging her stubby, docked tail. I held out a warning finger. "Keep that thing on a leash."
Gemma gave me a coy look over her shoulder. "You afraid of my puppy?"
"That is not a puppy."
"Of course, she is," Gemma cooed, bending down to scrub either side of the dog's face. Mini sat obediently while her owner accosted her. "Such a good girl." The dog's eyes closed in silent pleasure, and I couldn't help but wonder what it felt like to be touched by Gemma's lily-white hands. Probably pretty good.
Expelling a harsh sigh, I walked to my left across the dining area and over to the pile of boxes in front of the apartment entrance. "Where did you put your leash for that thing?"
"Box five-A," Gemma replied absently. "But where did I put my phone?"
I blinked, leaning over to examine the boxes. "Well, I'll be damned," I muttered. Every box was labeled with a precise cataloging system. Although it looked rushed, each box contained neatly stored items that seemed to have a rhyme and reason to them. This day was full of surprises.
