Arthur blinked a few times. “I guess it can’t hurt to ask, right?”
“Right. It’s not a commitment.”
“Okay. Then, I guess, yeah, you could ask him.”
“Done. I’ll let you know what he says.” I pulled out my phone. “Give me your number.”
When Arthur wandered back inside after exchanging numbers, looking a little shell-shocked, Shane narrowed his eyes at me. “Did you mean that? About the building?”
“Sure. Why else would I say it?”
“I don’t know.” Shane picked up a long-handled scoop and began pacing through the yard.
I grabbed the other scooper and hurried after him. “Why would I lie?”
“To motivate Arthur? To get him off his ass and doing something?”
“By lying?”
“People do.” He pitched his voice higher. “‘Study hard and you’ll make something of yourself.’ ‘Get that kitchen really clean and tomorrow night you can go out.’ ‘Practice more and you’ll make the team.’” He coughed. “Hell, we tell ourselves those lies. ‘The next town will be better if you just get your ass in gear and start hitching.’ Sometimes we don’t even believe the lies, but they’re too useful to stick to the truth.”
“I don’t do that.”
Shane gave me a cool look. “Everyone does that.”
I was going to protest further, but I hadn’t exactly come clean with him about the venue, had I?So, I happen to own the building you’re squatting in.The words still didn’t cross my lips. Instead, I asked, “What are we supposed to be doing here?”
“Picking up shit. What do you think?” He used the claw of his tool on a clump of dog poo, then dropped it in a bag-lined bucket. “Come on, do your bit. I want to see you cleaning a yard in those hundred-dollar jeans.”
“Three-hundred dollar.” I needed two tries to work my grabber, but the crap went in the bin.
“Good to see that they aren’t just for showing off your ass.”
“Oh, you noticed what they do for my ass?” I turned and cocked a hip for him.
“Might’ve,” he muttered. “Might do something about it once we’re done here.”
Despite the stinky job he’d roped me into, I grinned at those words.
CHAPTER9
SHANE
Mimsy trottedat my heels as I headed home from busking. I had the bills and coins of the afternoon’s haul stuffed in my pocket, to add to yesterday’s take and what Arthur paid me four days ago. With luck, I’d have enough of a cushion left after picking up groceries and new socks to buy a phone.I’ll get one tomorrow.
My decision had nothing to do with Theo. I’d been dodging Theo the last few days, because I couldn’t quite wrap my head around what we were doing together. A phone wouldn’t change that. But if I was going to start looking for a job that wasn’t taking kibble out of puppies’ mouths, I’d need a contact number. Gaynor Beach didn’t seem to have a day-labor market.
At the last ostentatious house before the empty lot, a curtain twitched in the front window as I was passing. A thin woman with upswept hair peered out at me. I waved.
Look like you belong here.One of the most important rules for surviving while homeless.
She didn’t wave back. The curtain dropped.
In her backyard, a fluffy dog about Mimsy’s size dashed along the fence, barking frantically. I stopped and squatted, holding out my hand that probably still smelled of Mimsy’s fish treats. “Hey there, little guy. It’s okay.” I put my fingers an inch from the wire.
The dog galloped over and sniffed at me, then started yapping its head off again. It stared past me, and I turned to see Mimsy giving the dog a death-glare.
“Don’t terrorize the yap-dogs, Mims,” I told her.
