A strangled sound climbed up my throat.
“Miss Graham,” Aiden said before I could speak. “Is there any other damage elsewhere in the apartment? Bedroom, bathroom, kitchen?”
Rosie shook her head. “Just this. Or at least, this is all I could see.”
The contractor slipped the notepad he had been scribbling on under an arm. “All right. If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a look in all rooms. Would that be okay?”
“Yes, of course.” Rosie let out a sigh. “Please, take your time. And sorry for the mess. I left in a rush when everything… went down. No pun intended.”
With a nod, Aiden turned around and left the room.
Rosie’s lips fell, pressing in a tight line.
Getting a hold of my shock and, quite frankly, frustration at her downplaying the risk when she could have been hurt, I regained the distance she’d put between us and nudged her shoulder with mine. “Hey.”
She glanced at me, her expression neutral, seemingly passive, but her eyes telling a whole other story.
“I’m sorry I just got a little mad,” I told her.
She shrugged a shoulder. “You shouldn’t apologize.” Her lips turned down. “Or get mad over nothing.”
I ignored that, the need to make her smile sprouting deep in my gut. “I can’t believe I missed it when I came in,” I started, and she looked over at me. “Who knew that I had a thing for women in yellow paint,” I added as casually as I could. “And by women, I really don’t mean my cousin.”
She blinked, then let out a half laugh, half snort. “Feeling funny today, huh?”
“I thought I was always funny.” I winked, and that seemed to distract her enough for her to give me another one of those half-assed laughs. “Now seriously, are you okay?”
A shrug. “Yeah.”
“It’s okay if you aren’t.” I paused. “This is a lot, Rosie.”
She held my gaze, as if she wanted to say something, but she seemed to change her mind. “This.” She threw her head back and looked at the hole—and definitely not just a crack—above us. “This is nothing, really. No big deal. Just a little inconvenience. It’ll be fixed in no time.”
It wasn’t little. It really wasn’t.
Mr. Allen, who had been surprisingly quiet, scoffed, reminded us of his presence. “There’s nothing little about this, Miss Graham.”
Upper lip curled upward, he appeared in front of us, his fingers tightening the knot of what looked like an expensive tie. He reminded me of the crazy guy from that black comedy horror movie from the early 2000s. The one with the psychopath.
And while I agreed with him on this one, I still took a small step forward at his tone.
Mr. Allen’s gaze bounced from Rosie to me before returning to Rosie. “I suppose you don’t own property, Miss Graham.”
“No, I don’t. But I was just trying to make light of the situation—”
“Exactly,” Psycho Landlord interrupted her, making my spine straighten at the change in his voice. “And that’s only because you aren’t aware of the cost that patching this no big deal is going to entail. But of course”—he paused, his lip now impossibly high on his face—“this is my time, Miss Graham. My money, too. Do you know how much I lose by standing here, dealing with this?”
Rosie’s answer was quick. “I completely understand that. I’m not here by choice, either. I’m not the one that caused—”
“Oh, I think you don’t understand,” he cut her off for the second time, and my body moved closer to Rosie’s. Our shoulders brushed. Psycho Landlord continued, his smile turning knowing. “You really don’t if you think this will be fixed in”—a pause—“no time. In fact, I think it will be the opposite of that.”
I sensed Rosie’s body freeze in place at Mr. Allen’s last words. So I looked over at her, finding her staring back at him with a hard jaw and a serious frown. At first glance, one would have thought she was unbothered, handling the news like a pro, but then a shaky breath escaped her mouth, and her eyes blinked a couple of times. This was her brave face, I realized. She was putting up a fa?ade, for whose benefit, I didn’t know. But I happened not to care, because my hand left my side and reached out in her direction, landing softly in the middle of her back. Right between her shoulder blades.
She didn’t move or give me any indication that my touch was doing anything to her as she laser-stared into space, but I kept my palm where it was. Drawing slow circles and letting her know I was here if she needed me, that I had her back.