Page 44 of Singled Out

“Poor woman,” I said, because she was sweet as pie, but how did someone live like this?

“I know this isn’t ideal,” Darius said with a smile, “but I’ve had three other calls on it today. I’ve got two showings so far tomorrow. I’m not trying to pressure you, because it will be rented fast regardless. I just want you to know that, if you like it, you’ll need to act quickly.”

Dakota and I exchanged a look that spoke of nervousness, maybe a little excitement, and a good dose of what the fuck.

“The kitchen appliances were replaced three years ago. There’s a stackable washer-dryer in the bathroom, which is large especially considering when this was built. The bedrooms have windows looking out on the square.”

“Too bad there’s no balcony,” Dakota said.

“The patio out back looks over the woods. Mrs. K has it crowded with old furniture but that will be removed. Try to?—”

“Squint?” I asked.

“You’re catching on,” he said. “I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes. Take your time.”

He pulled the door closed after him. Dakota and I looked at each other with our eyes wide, then burst out laughing.

“This is awful,” she said. “It’s no wonder Mrs. Karasinski fell. How could she not trip over all the crap?”

“I’m trying hard to see past it, but I’m struggling.”

Dakota gazed around at the living room. “Okay. It’s not huge, but we could fit a couch and a chair or two. A coffee table.”

“Maybe some shelves over on that wall,” I suggested.

“Let’s look at the bedrooms.”

They were on the front of the apartment, and each one had a window seat, currently piled high with clutter, but I was starting to imagine the potential.

“Oh,” Dakota breathed out when she went into the bathroom. “Look at this.”

I poked my head in the door and saw an old-fashioned claw-foot tub. There were towels and blankets filling it, but I could imagine bubbles and a glass of wine. “Nice.”

The kitchen was small but functional with a large window to the back.

“Let’s go to the deck,” I said. “It feels like there’s not enough oxygen in here.”

Dakota laughed. “You’re not one of those tidy freaks, are you?”

“I never thought so, but compared to this?”

“Everyone is,” she said before I could.

We stepped out to the deck, built on the roof of the lower level. It wasn’t large, and it too was full of crap, but with a cute bistro table and chairs, it could be the perfect spot for morning coffee.

“Sit,” Dakota said, planting herself on an old wicker love seat. “I am dying to know how last night went. I saw the pics. You were a knockout. That dress was killer. I saw you and Max dancing. It looked like you were getting along well?”

I lowered myself to the worn cushion next to her, letting my mind catch up to her change in subject. “The gala was good. He was fun.”

“Max? Was fun? Did you get him drunk?”

“Stop,” I said. “He didn’t drink, but we danced. And he was exactly what I needed to get through the award acceptance.”

“Borrrring. Tell me you spent the night with him.”

Laughing, I said, “I did.”

Her eyes went big, and she grabbed my arm. “What? My brother got lucky? I mean, don’t tell me details, but I hope it was good.”