Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Yes, you can, when part of your down payment wasn’t yours to spend, and now you need to pay it back more quickly than the place could possibly appreciate.
Ryan continues, “That is, unless you open the door tomorrow and find the former owner dead and fused to his couch. The value might take a hit, in that instance.”
“Ryan Morgan, stop,” Tessa says. This time, she bats her husband’s muscled arm. “Char’s been losing sleep. Don’t torture her.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “One of the few things I know about the place is that the former owner—one Lloyd Graham—didn’t die on the premises.” I also know the man died without an heir, according to the auction write-up—hence, the online auction. After a frenzied bidding war, I “won” the place, sight unseen and in “as is” condition. I did get to see a floorplan diagram in the description. Also, some photos of a similar unit on the fourth floor in the same building. I’ve also been assured there’s no major structural damage, so at least I know whatever fixes or renovations are needed won’t be too complicated or time-consuming. Cosmetic, mostly. But beyond all that, I know nothing else.
The truth is I bought the place on a wing and a prayer, while panicking about the stupid, colossal mistake I’d made. I thought buying the place would help my situation; unfortunately, though, I found out shortly after my purchase I’d only made things worse. And now, here I am, coming off a month of sleepless nights and looking over my shoulder, bound and determined to set things right in time. “Why are you headed to the airport?” I ask Ryan, trying to change the subject. “A work trip or something fun?”
“Well, work is fun to me,” he says. “But it’s both. I’m going to LA to check out a possible new location for Captain’s, and while I’m there, I’m having dinner with the LA Branch of the family.” Ryan and Tessa have been expanding their successful bar in various locations along the West Coast for several years now, and they’ve been killing it.
“Has Maddy had her baby yet?” I ask. It’s hard for me to keep track of all four of Ryan’s siblings and their partners and kids, but I’m pretty sure the woman married to Ryan’s actor-brother, Keane, is at the bitter end of her pregnancy. Tessa threw her sister-in-law a fabulous baby shower several months ago, and since I’ve hung out with Ryan’s various family members at multiple parties thrown at Ryan and Tessa’s house, the mommy-to-be kindly included me on the guest list.
“Maddy’s due to pop in a week or so,” Tessa says. “The whole Seattle Branch is going to fly down there once the baby comes. That reminds me. Would you be willing to house- and dog-sit for us when we go? I’m sorry to ask, but everyone who normally watches Rudy for us will be going to LA, too.”
“Of course. I’d love to stay with Rudy the Cutie Patootie. By then, I’m sure I’ll relish the chance to stay in a clean and orderly home, after all the work I’ll be doing on the condo.”
“It might be a full week.”
“Call me and I’ll come running for however long you need. I’m unemployed, remember? I’ve got nowhere else I need to be.”
Tessa touches Ryan’s forearm. “Char hasn’t had any luck in her job search yet, babe. While she’s looking for a flight attendant gig, she’s hoping to find something part-time she can do from home to make ends meet. Got any ideas?”
Ryan twists his perfect lips, considering the question. “Not off the top, but I’ll make some calls on my drive to the airport.”
Tessa and I both thank him, and Ryan says he’s happy to help.
“I’d better go, ladies,” he says, looking at his watch. He kisses his wife goodbye and pats me on the head—something he’s been doing to me since meeting me—his way of emphasizing my shortness; and then, the handsome man strides across the large space like he owns the place—which he does, of course, along with his wife and some exceedingly wealthy business partners.
Just when I’m about to look away from Ryan’s retreating frame, the front door of the bar opens, and none other than Brody the Bouncer walks into the bar. Fuck my life.
I can’t let that ghost see me sitting here looking like a haggard hot mess! Even worse, I can’t let him think, even for a second, that I chose Seattle as my temporary new city because I’m hoping to rekindle things with him. Ha! Whatever it takes, I’m going to make it clear I’ve already moved on from our meaningless fling and mediocre sex. In fact, I’m going to make sure Brody thinks I haven’t given him another thought since sending him that regrettable, stupid text.