Page 35 of Singled Out

“Good stuff,” I said out loud, trying to reassure myself. “You need a place to live. Here’s a place to live…in the perfect location.”

My heart thundered on as I walked slowly toward Naomi’s house.

I was the first to call about the apartment. The rent, if I split it with Dakota or another roommate, would be more than I was paying now, but anyplace that wasn’t condemned would be more than I was paying. If I kept working at the diner and watched my spending, I could handle it.

Darius had explained the apartment was still full of Ms. Karasinski’s belongings, as she’d had to move suddenly after a fall last week. It was, in Darius’s words, a bit of a challenge. He said if I could squint past all the stuff, I could see it later today.

Without giving myself time to think about it, I’d agreed to see it. Nothing else.

I needed to see if Dakota could join me, or someone, maybe Piper or Shawna or Maribella, who I worked with. But first… I was almost to the house that had been my home for three years.

I studied each window on this side, looking for movement inside or a sign of what was going on. Was Ian still passed out on the couch? Or dead?

That would solve some of my problems. I laughed at the awful thought, then sobered as I stared at the front door. What now? Walk in like I always did, because I lived here? Or knock like a stranger, which I was? Neither one felt right.

I settled for knocking because I wasn’t in the mood to get shot. As I waited for him to answer, I tried to think back on whether Naomi had ever mentioned whether her brother had a gun or was a violent type, but the truth was, she hadn’t told me much about him.

The door whipped open, and there stood the man in question. He narrowed his eyes at me, not speaking. I didn’t know how he usually looked, but today he looked like hell, with bloodshot eyes, scruff on his jaw, and weariness in his expression. He’d changed out of the wrinkled suit from last night and was wearing athletic pants and a Henley.

“Hi,” I said tentatively. “I’m Harper. Naomi’s roommate.”

His shoulders lowered slightly as he averted his gaze to the ground, seeming defeated or annoyed or…regretful?

“You came by last night?” he asked in a voice rough with fatigue and most likely a severe hangover.

“Yes. With my…date.”

Ian walked away from the door, toward the kitchen, leaving it open for me to follow, so I did.

I stopped at the doorway to the kitchen, where he stood on the opposite side, his back to me as he filled a glass with water.

“I suspect I owe you an apology,” he said, not turning around.

“You don’t remember me coming home? Telling me to leave?”

He drank half the glass, then rubbed his temple. “I have some memory of it.”

I stood there tensely, waiting to see what he’d do next, ready to bolt for the front door if he got nasty again.

“What did you say your name was?” he asked.

“Harper.”

He slowly turned to face me, leaning his weight on the cabinets. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. I…wasn’t in my right mind.”

“Scotch can have that effect,” I said lightly. “Been there.”

I didn’t like this guy, didn’t trust him for anything, but I needed to get along with him well enough to have a chance to move my stuff out. Even better would be to find out what he planned to do with the studio.

“You lived here with my sister?”

I nodded. “For three years. We were good friends.” I willed my emotions to stay level. “We didn’t have a formal lease, but I paid her rent every month. I could show you payment records on my phone?—”

“That’s not necessary.”

I leaned on the doorframe, lowering my guard by a degree but not relaxing enough to enter the room. “Your aunt Sharon tried to contact you after Naomi… She said she left a dozen messages.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I was in Thailand, off-grid for two months.” His lips slipped into a frown momentarily. “I didn’t know until a week ago. This is the soonest I could get here.” The quiver in that last word told me what his words didn’t. Not getting the messages about his sister bothered him.