I shrug. "Walked. I live close."
"Want a ride?"
I shrug again. "It's okay. Not even a ten-minute walk. I'm good."
She looks almost disappointed, which is ridiculous. But it makes me rethink. "If you’re sure."
"No need to go out of your way."
She pats my arm. "It's not, I promise."
I lick my lips, hesitate another moment, and then shrug. “Okay, then."
Her car is tiny and smells like fruit and lavender. My heart pounds the whole ride to my apartment complex, and my hands are clammy and sweaty.
I can't help staring at her lips and her small, clever hands. Her chest. Her bare thighs.
God, stop staring.
I know she caught me looking at least once, and only grins at me, a sly little smirk, but says nothing.
"See you at the shelter, Bear," she says as I unfold from her car.
“Yeah, see you."
She snickers. "You're so funny. Bye!"
She drives off, leaving me wondering what I did that was so funny.
No clue.
All I know is I like her. A lot.
And that seed of hope is germinating, despite my best efforts to kill it.
Four
NOELLE
Iclutch my phone in both hands, trying like crazy to keep a tight rein on hope. This space is absolutely perfect—right on Main Street between Compass and Brookline, sandwiched between a coffee shop and a photography studio. It’s a blank slate, with nothing but open space, large black-and-white checkered tile flooring, and plain white walls. All I’d need are the stations and some decorations, a little counter or desk for the cash register and appointment book, and some shelving for merchandise. It has two bathrooms, a small office, and a back door to a little alley nook for breaks, with a nearby private dumpster for trash, complete with a locking fence.
I keep my voice even as the showing agent waits for my response. "It's very nice. What's the asking rent?"
Vicki, the agent, lists a number that makes my eyes water, and my eyebrow twitch.
"Is there any wiggle room on that?"
Vicki winces. "Maybe a little, but not much. You know spaces on Main Street go fast, Noelle. If you want it, I'd put in an offer soon. Like, within forty-eight hours, max. I've already shown it six times and it's only been listed a week."
"Okay, well, let me crunch some numbers and get back to you. Thanks, Vicki.” I smile at her and make my exit, fighting tears of disappointment.
No way in heckle-schmeckle I can swing that rent, even if I don’t pay myself. It’s triple the amount I’m paying for my house, and that's just rent—add utilities for both, plus the overhead of the business itself? Forget it.
Maybe if I let go of my house and get an apartment, I could finagle the numbers enough to make it work.Maybe. But all the apartments are farther from downtown than I want to be. Plus, I love my house. It's cute, and it has just enough space for me and my little collection of things. It's cozy and quiet and a few blocks away from Main Street.
If only I could have a dog, it would be even more perfect. But so far, I haven't been able to get Richard to budge on that topic. My plan all along has been to make Richard an offer to buy it from him, but my investigation into comps in the area put it out of reach for a few more years, at least at my current rate of income. If I were to shell out the bucks for a place like the one I just saw, things would get even tighter.
Ugh.
