Maid for Each Other(82)
She gave him a look like she wondered why Roman was even there.
“But on these?” Roman asked, holding up one of the small boxes. “He spent a fortune on inhalers, which I was supposed to help him weave into the bouquets in his office, but I was too slow and you showed up earlier than we’d expected. You really should’ve called.”
I sighed, wondering how he was so good at so many things when he could be such a bumbling jackass about others. “Roman. Stop.”
“What, um…，” she said, her eyebrows crinkled together in that way that I loved, “bouquets…？”
Oh, God, please let that be interest in her eyes.
The doorbell buzzed and I heard, “MISTER POWELL?”
Fuck, what now?!
“Hold that thought,” I said to her, holding out a hand, terrified she’d leave. I yelled to the intercom, “Yes?”
“LAUREN SMEARHAVEN HERE TO SEE YOU. SHOULD I SEND HER UP?”
Lauren who? I didn’t know—
“No!” Abi yelled to the intercom, her eyes wide.
Her cheeks were pink as she turned to Roman and me, blinking rapidly as she said, “That’s my friend.”
Her friend? At my apartment?
Then she yelled to the intercom, “I’m coming down!”
Roman raised his eyebrows at me as if to say what the fuck?
“She’s welcome to come up,” I said, desperate to make Abi stay.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “This will only take a second.”
“You’re coming back?” I asked hopefully, realizing how pathetic I sounded.
“I mean, I have to clean the place and I need this job,” she said as she headed for the door. “So yes. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as the door closed behind her, Roman said, “Holy shit.”
I shook my head and dragged my hand through my hair. “Holy shit, indeed.”
“No, I mean holy shit—Lauren Smearhaven has been an investment. I think she was July, maybe.”
What? “Are you sure?” I asked.
“Think about it—Smearhaven? Not a name I’d forget.”
I looked at Roman and shook my head, wondering what in the hell else could be thrown into this scene that was supposed to be ending with Abi in my arms.
Lauren fucking Smearhaven.
“Ho-ly shit.”
45
Revelations
Abi
“What are you doing here?”
I grabbed Lauren’s arm and pulled her into the lobby restroom, because I was very aware of how big Carl the Doorman’s gossipy ears were. I’d benefited from countless entertaining stories since I’d started with Masterkleen of all the things he’d overheard from his desk.
“You haven’t responded to my texts,” she said, scowling. “I was worried.”
In spite of the chaos of the day, my heart got a little warm as I looked at my irritated friend. She’d been worried about me.
“Awww,” I said, pulling her into a hug. “Thank you.”
She pulled back and scowled even harder. “You don’t hug—what the hell is wrong with you?”
I shook my head. “Forget it. Nothing. Now why are you really here?”
“I was worried, but also I’ve been dying to tell you what I think I discovered about your friends.”
My friends. I had no idea at that moment what they were. I was stuck between （a） desperately wanting to believe Dex because he’d just said everything I wanted him to say, and （b） knowing he might feel that way today but it was surely fleeting.
“Why couldn’t you have just texted it to me?” I asked.
“Because,” she said, lowering her voice even though we were the only ones in the bathroom, “it’s hugely a secret. So secret that I didn’t even want to send it over a phone.”
“What?” I said, a little too loudly because she put her hand over my mouth.
“Shut up,” she hissed, her eyes wide. “I’m about to go all first grade on you and whisper as quietly as I can into your ear. So you’re going to need to keep your mouth shut and just listen, okay?”
“You sound bonkers,” I said, wondering why she was acting so bizarrely. “Just tell me quietly, there’s no one else here.”
“My way or the highway,” she said, and sighed. “Fuck it. Just shut the fuck up and listen.”
Lauren grabbed my head, pulled it to her face, then cupped her hands around my ear.
“There is a thing online called RestWell—you’ve probably heard of it, I don’t know. It’s this anonymous drop box where people can randomly ask for money, basically. Like they fill out their name, their request—how much they need and why—and their Venmo or PayPal info, unless it’s over a certain amount and then there’s other requirements, I think. But no one knows who runs it or how it works—and people have been trying to find out for years—but this modern-day Robin Hood literally gives away millions of dollars every year. Like, millions. To random users on the internet.”
“You guys okay in there?” Carl yelled from outside the door.
“We’re fine, Carl,” I yelled back, knowing he was champing at the bit to flirt with Lauren because he loved brunettes. “It’s girl stuff.”