“Hey, uh… is your head okay?” I ask softly.
She finishes putting the last item in the cabinet and glances at me. “Yeah. It’s not throbbing as much,” she says casually, like I didn’t nearly knock her into next week.
“Sorry about that,” I mumble. “I didn’t know what to do?—”
“It’s fine.” She waves it off. “I should’ve figured my brother would hire someone. How much did he pay you, anyway? I can’t imagine you giving up time with your family for twenty bucks an hour.”
“Five thousand dollars for two nights,” I say, a little too quickly. “He already paid me two grand upfront.”
Her brows lift. “Not bad. Honestly, I thought it was a crazy number.”
“Your brother must spend a lot of money,” I say, shaking my head.
“No, he’s nice. I’m not. I would pay you $500 a night.”
“Thank God, you are not your brother.”
She doesn’t say anything, but turns and walks into the living room, settling onto the couch like she owns it. I tell myself to leave her alone, but of course, I follow anyway.
“What does your brother do?” I ask, sitting down on the loveseat across from her.
“He’s an investor. Owns a bunch of properties.” Her eyes stay glued to her phone, jaw tight. Whatever she’s looking at is clearly annoying her more than my questions.
I hesitate, then push anyway. “What about you?”
“I work for him,” she says after a beat. “I’m a contractor. Mostly build or remodel the places he buys.” Finally, she looks up, directly at me. “What about you?”
“I’m a freelance artist.”
Her head tilts slightly. “You draw?”
“Paint, mostly,” I admit, suddenly self-conscious under her gaze. “Some digital work too. I’ve done murals, portraits, commissions, basically anything that keeps the lights on.”
Her lips twitch into the faintest smile. “So you hit people with candy canes and make art. You’re full of surprises.”
I let out a soft laugh. “And again, I’m sorry about that.”
She ignores my apology. “Why aren’t you celebrating with your family?”
“I love Christmas,” I say, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “They don’t. And when free money lands in your inbox, you don’t exactly say no. Please. This place is ‘Christmas Fresh Prince of Bel-Air’ type of vibe.”
She raises her eyebrows and pulls out her phone. I watch her type for a second. Maybe she is giving her brother live updates about me. Should I make her something? I do not know what to do in situations like this since I have never done a house-sitting job where the actual people living there were still here. For safety reasons, I keep that candy cane right beside me.
“So I am guessing you are not into the Christmas thing,” I say.
She sighs, puts her phone back in her pocket, then looks at me. “How can I pay you to leave?”
“I am not leaving,” I say, crossing my arms. “I was paid to be here.”
“Well, this is where I live. So I am not leaving.”
“You have got money,” I fire back. “Go to a hotel. I am contracted to be here.”
“I can pay you double to get you out of here. Triple even.”
My mouth nearly hits the floor. That would be fifteen thousand dollars just to leave. I would be dumb not to take it. Then again, I doubt she would actually pay it. I need to make sure before saying yes.
“Okay. I will take the seven thousand five hundred upfront. You can pay me the rest when I leave tomorrow.”
