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Mr. Wrong Number(42)

Author:Lynn Painter

“I get that.” I got up, adding distance between us because the last thing that I needed was to fall under the spell of her funny charm and forget all about who she actually was. Jack’s sister, Jack’s sister, Jack Marshall’s little baby sister, dipshit. “Call the office in the morning and talk to Jordyn. She’s great and can give you a tour.”

“Jordyn, huh?” She waggled her eyebrows in a ridiculously cheesy way. “Sounds hot.”

“And incredibly pregnant.” I turned off the TV with the remote, dropped it on the coffee table, and said, “G’night, Liv.”

My bedroom door was almost closed when I heard her say, “Sweet dreams, Colin.”

And just before I plugged in my phone to let it charge overnight, I shot off a quick email to Jordyn in the leasing office. I wasn’t meddling, because Olivia was definitely not my problem, but if she needed a recommendation in order to get an apartment she loved, I was good with doing that.

Besides, I still owed her for the kick-ass letter.

And hell—the quicker she found a place, the quicker she was out of my hair, anyway.

9

Olivia

I spent the entire next day looking at apartments, but the problem was that I looked at the one available studio in Colin’s building first. It was tiny but ridiculously perfect: new appliances, new flooring, cool ceilings, and the loft had a changing area and tiny half bath, so it felt like way more space than it actually was. And, of course, it had a view of the city that made my soul feel alive. The rent was doable, too, but their income requirements would probably knock me out of the running.

There were a couple others I checked out in the downtown area, but they were dumps and I couldn’t afford them. So I went farther out into the suburbs, looking at super-basic old vanilla apartments, and before I knew it I was two blocks from my parents’ house.

Talk about your bad omens.

But since I was in the neighborhood, I decided to swing by.

“Ma?” I opened the front door and went inside. My parents never locked the house until bedtime, so I never had to worry about having a key on me. “Where are you?”

“Basement.”

I ran down the stairs, expecting to see her watching TV by herself, but she was actually surrounded by four ladies from church. Ellie, Beth, Tiff, and that crotchety one with the ever-narrowed eyes who’d always watched me like I was about to steal the collection baskets.

“Oh. Hey, everyone.” I gave them all a smile and wished I wasn’t wearing skinny jeans and a tank top that said Summer Girl. Now that I had a paying job, I needed to go shopping for clothes, but working remotely had kept me lazy and entirely unconcerned with my wardrobe. “How are you guys?”

“What are you doing here, hon?” My mother looked at me suspiciously and added, “You didn’t lose your job already, did you?”

“Why?” I clenched my fists to keep myself from being snotty in front of her friends. “Why would you think that?”

“Because it’s the middle of the day, dear,” she said, her eyes moving over me from head to toe as if cataloging every failing, “And you’re dressed like a scrub. Do you need some money to go shopping?”

More clenching. “No, Ma, I have money. But thank you. I just haven’t had time to shop because I’ve been working so hard.”

There. Boom.

“Oh, that’s right—your father’s been saving your articles. He really liked the story about the steakhouse that boozes up every dish.”

I felt beads of sweat on my nose as my mom’s friends looked at me like I was a disappointment.

“I tell you what,” Mom said, leaning closer to Tiff, “I don’t know what the paper is thinking with that new cartoon mom thing. Have you guys read that?”

Now my forehead was sweaty, too.

She continued. “After all the commercials, I thought it was going to be good stuff, but it’s some young smart-ass who likes to be funny instead of helpful.”

I rolled in my lips and inhaled through my nose.

Tiff said, “Oh, now, Nancy—I thought she was hilarious.”

Beth said, “Me too.”

“It was definitely different.” Ellie tilted her head a little and added, “But I enjoyed it.”

The crotchety one just looked at me, still trying to decide if I was a felonious troublemaker, but I didn’t care. She could kiss my ass, because the rest of them dug my work.

“Listen, I’ve got to get going. I’m apartment hunting today, but since I was close, I thought I’d stop by and say hi.” I pulled my keys out of my pocket. “Tell Dad, too, okay?”

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