Beg, Borrow, or Steal (When in Rome, #3)(11)

“Oh—sorry about that.” I pull it to me and click my pen open. It’s a struggle sometimes to remember to sign my real name and not my pseudonym. Which sounds like a douchey thing to say, but it is what it is.

Emily is watching me closely—her blond bangs, the same color as melted gold, curling up tighter and tighter on the edges with each passing second. “What contract?”

Carol smiles at her. “For his new house here in Rome. We just closed this morning.”

Emily looks like she might be sick, and that thought gives me far too much joy. “Here? In Rome? You’re moving . . . to Rome? Permanently?”

“Correct.” I hand Carol the paper with a smile that makes her blush. “And Carol, you’ve been incredible to work with. Thank you for your attention to detail.”

Emily butts in again. “Are you sure you didn’t mean to move to Rome, Italy? No one would fault you considering your IQ,” she says, batting her eyes with over-the-top innocence.

“Why would I move to Italy? My favorite corner table is right here.”

Carol’s shoulders are growing more rigid by the minute. She would rather be anywhere but here. “I guess this is going to be interesting for you two, isn’t it?” Carol asks, gesturing between me and Emily.

“Oh no . . . there’s no you two where Jack and I are concerned.”

“Well, no, I meant with you two being neighbors now and all.”

Both my and Emily’s eyes zero in on Carol. I lean forward slightly. “Come again?”

The longer she looks between us, the less I like the expression on her face. It’s slowly melting—like a realization is dawning that she doesn’t want to share. “Wait. You didn’t know?”

I shake my head at a loss. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

“Oh god.” Carol grimaces.

Emily seems to reach an understanding first. She sits back heavily in her seat. “Carol . . . don’t tell me . . .”

“He bought Old Pete’s place.”

“No,” Emily whispers hauntingly.

“Yes.”

I look at Carol and then Emily. “Who’s Pete?”

No one acknowledges me.

“Carol! You’re joking! That place is half-rotten and falling down.” Well, now I know we’re all talking about the same place at least.

“Who is Pete?” I ask again, this time getting Carol’s attention.

She looks at me with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Jack. I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?”

“The house you bought . . . it’s directly next door to . . .” Her eyes slowly trace a line to the woman who would like to scoop me out of her life with a melon baller.

“Dammit. You’re my neighbor?”

“Like hell. Just cancel the sale.” She gestures toward the paper Carol is holding, which she clutches tightly in her fingers and pulls protectively to her chest looking for all the world like she’s already spent the cash offer I used to buy the house. “Just rip up the papers and find a new house.”

There she goes again—barking orders at me as if she owns me.

I sip my coffee. “No—that’s not how it works, and you know it. Also this was the only place available in town.” I’ve lived on the fringes long enough. I’m ready to be here.

“Okay! Well . . . it was nice seeing y’all but I’ve got to—” Carol is backing away but Emily’s hand juts out and stops her, eyeballs still pasted to my face.

“No, no, no. This really can’t be happening. I can’t live next to him and work next to him every day of my life too.” Her eyes finally slide up to Carol. “Surely the house is unsellable anyway! I mean . . . it’s practically falling down. There must be a loophole to cancel the deal.”

It’s not that I would have expected Emily to be happy to live next to me, but I didn’t expect her to look like she just stepped out of a haunted house either. Living in Nebraska for the past few months and constantly expecting to see Emily around every corner, simply because life has repeatedly brought us unexpectedly together, must have caused some irreversible damage. Because suddenly, I don’t want her face to look like that when she thinks of me as her neighbor.

Carol waves off Emily’s words like she did mine. “The house isn’t too bad, really. Darrell is going to fix it up. A few weeks of renovation and it’ll be gorgeous!”

I don’t miss the moment Emily’s eyes sharpen on Carol. “Wait. Darrell’s company is going to do the reno?”

“Sure is. I talked to him this morning on the phone and he said although he’s slammed, he’d be willing to make it work. And since Jack is able to pay out of p—”

“Your house is the white one with the obsessive-looking flower garden?” I know where Carol was going with her sentence, and I don’t care to have her finish it in front of Emily. She has always been suspicious of my lifestyle. She’s made more than one pointed comment about my “nice things.” I don’t need her sniffing around this too.

Emily narrows her eyes. “You could have just said the house with the beautiful flower garden. But yes—that’s mine. Jealous?”

Of course it is. Of course it is. When I went by to look at the crapshoot that is now my home, I all but drooled over her house. I even asked Carol if the owner would be willing to relocate if I offered them double the estimated value. She said there was no way that particular homeowner would be open to selling. Now I know why. Emily will live in this town until her last breath. I’ve never known anyone to love a place or its people more.