Page 15 of Denial
Alice squares up with her hips against my counter once the door bangs shut.
I step closer before I realize what I’m doing. Not close enough to touch but close enough to inhale her fruity perfume.
“I’m excellent with a mop.”
I can’t believe I’m even entertaining this.
“I work long hours.”
“I know.”
“Unfathomably long at times. Late nights. Early mornings. Unpredictable.”
Her head bobs. “I had a front-row seat this afternoon to what your job entails. I don’t have a problem with your schedule.”
“I can’t fathom why.”
She wets her lips with her tongue and tips her head. “Why what?”
“Why you want this job. I can be out the door as early as 5:30, and Nellie is in school 9:30-4 sharp Monday through Friday, no excuses. You’re cool to hang with her until I get home without knowing what time that actually is? That means meals, appointments, taking her to dance. You’ll have to get your car situation sorted immediately.”
Her eyes move around my kitchen. She traces over the windows, the back door, and the hallway, almost as if she’s memorizing the exits.
A smirk settles on her lips, dragging my flighty attention to her mouth. I scold myself for even noticing.
“You don’t know this about me yet, but I was open to a live-in position.”
Over my dead body. This woman living under my roof would be like housing a wild animal. Arabidwild animal. Before I can verbally shut that shit down, she goes on.
“Your family thought you might need some time to ease into the arrangement first.”
“I’ll tell you right now, that’s never going to happen.”
“Fair enough, Officer Smiley.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“We’re going to make an excellent team, Officer Sunny.”
“And somehow that’s worse,” I mutter to no one in particular.
“What would you prefer?”
This isn’t going to last long enough to matter. “Sutton. Or Mr. Stone.”
She pulls a face. “Too formal. Sutton, it is. It’s getting late. Unless you want me to start right away and make you dinner, I’d like to get settled in my rental. Today’s been eventful.”
Exasperation tickles my jaw. “This isn’t going to work.”
“It already is.” She smiles, and my chest tightens. “See you Monday, Sutton.”
“I didn’t say you had the job.”
“You will.”
She brushes past me to grab her bag. I fix my glare at the ceiling as a shock of static zips up my arm. I don’t move until the front door bangs shut.
Only then do I cross the foyer to flip the lock and key in the code to the alarm.
