“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize he’d passed away. CJ didn’t tell me.”
My pockets were all bunched up inside, fumbling my attempt to nonchalantly do something with my hands. I always had to be productive with my hands, especially in awkward situations. Music was the perfect outlet for that, but this was hardly the time for a violin solo.
“No worries, I just told CJ last night, anyway. Not his fault.” Georgia walked deeper into her apartment and held her arms out. “So, you see, this place is nearly identical to yours. My dad had it all as one space, but six months ago I had it renovated into two units. I didn’t need all the space. And, the rent will help with ... life.”
“What about your mom?”
Her shoulders stiffened for a split second before her exhale. “Gone.”
“I’m so sorry.” I met her at her picture window. My hand hovered over the small of her back, but I hesitated, instead brushing it across her shoulder blades.
“Don’t be. It is what it is. This view is perfect, though, isn’t it?”
I breathed in reverence at the identical view to the apartment across the hall, allowing for her change in subject. “Yeah, about the rent...”
“Five hundred.”
“Ha!” She jumped at my loud response. “No fucking way. That’s insane.”
“No,” she snapped, “that’s not insane.”
Her face was all screwed up, happiness swirled with something distant.
“Sorry.” I exaggerated my response as if I were on the playground.
The lines around her mouth relaxed. “No, I’m sorry. I’m not kidding. Five hundred. The apartment has sat empty since I renovated. I haven’t trusted anyone else to take it.”
“Trust? You met me like two days ago.”
Georgia turned for her bedroom, talking to me over her shoulder as she shuffled through her closet. “Yeah, well you’re CJ’s cousin. I trust him with everything.”
“I have to tell you,” I called back, “I half expected black walls with neon spray paint everywhere or something.”
“That’s awfully assumptive of you.” Georgia came out wearing a long black skirt and a blue t-shirt that had a faded design I wasn’t going to be caught dead staring at for too long. She was wearing flip-flops that highlighted the stark vertical difference between the two of us.
“You’ve left me no choice.” I grinned. “I met you when you were wearing short shorts and combat boots, then I’ve seen you for two nights at the bar wear basically nothing at all. Now, this...” I gestured to the most conservative outfit I’d seen her in yet. “Can you blame me for expecting anything but this?”
“Well, you see,” Georgia got toe-to-toe with me and lifted up on hers so she could whisper in my ear, “I’m never sure what I’m going to be from one minute to another.”
I placed my hands on her shoulders, holding her at arm’s length. “You speak in riddles.”
“Do I? Maybe you hear in riddles.” She stepped back, shoving some things into her backpack.
“That bakery downstairs ... is it ever open? Who owns it?”
“Which do you want me to answer first?” She seemed annoyed.
“The second.”
“I do.”
“You own it?” My eyes may well have bugged right out of my head.
She shrugged. “Yep, I’m full of all kinds of surprises.” She seemed to be trying to wink with her voice, if one could do that, but it fell a little short and my stomach dropped a little.
“When is it open?”
“It’s not, really. I don’t have a ton of time to run it properly. Just mainly for catering and stuff.” She was growing flustered by the second. Who knew a bakery could be such a sore spot? “Do you want the place or not, Regan?”
I wasn’t sure if living across from Georgia was what I wanted to do. Well, it was what I wanted to do, but I didn’t know if it was right. I didn’t have a clear read on her, and she caused all kinds of feelings to stir up inside me that I definitely wasn’t ready to feel. I was curious. With each second that passed I wanted to get closer to her than my brain was comfortable with.
“Why do you trust me so much?” was the first sentence out of my mouth.
“You haven’t tried to get in my pants.” She slid her backpack over her shoulders and looked at me as if she’d said the most normal thing on the planet.
“I’ve known you for, like, a minute.”
“Precisely. You’re good, Regan. I need some good around here.” It was as if a grey scarf had slipped from the ceiling and surrounded her eyes as she spoke.
“I’ll take it.” That was the only thing to say.
Georgia walked toward me and slowly wrapped her arms around my neck as she squeezed me close. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“I ... you’re welcome.” I went to set my hands on her lower back, but her backpack stopped me, so I settled for the curve of her hip.