I noticed her last week. She came in twice. A man joined her a few minutes after she arrived.
Melissa
She dresses like a boss lady, so it’s not like she stood out for being out of place.
Melissa
At the end of her meal, she went to the bathroom with the changing table dedicated for parents with infants and handicaps. That caught my attention.
Melissa
A little later that day, the toilet backed up. I had one of the staff members clean up the mess. That’s when I was told it’s a regular occurrence when she’s here.
Melissa
When I saw her coming in today, I planned on talking to her at the end of her meal.
Kazimir
The police and the FBI have been tailing a woman because she backs up toilets in restaurants across New York?
Kazimir
It’s kind of disgusting and reeks of poor manners because the woman should take care of business at her own place, but it can hardly be considered a crime.
Melissa
The police and the FBI have been tailing this woman because they suspect she’s a drug mule. They apprehended the man she was supposed to meet the second he stepped out of the taxi.
My jaw drops.
Chapter 36
Fake girlfriends can’t make demands
Harley
Iflip the pages to the last novel Kaz bought me. It’s a hockey romance, second chance, a recommendation from the clerk who helped Kaz at the bookstore. It’s a great story, but I’m struggling to get into it. Since moving into Kaz’s house, this is the first time I’ve been left home alone. After the phone call from Grazie Mille’s interim manager, my fake boyfriend rushed out of here like the roof was on fire.
I got used to my ramen noodle dinners at my shitty basement apartment, sitting at a tiny table on a cheap laminate chair that I picked up in the garbage area on the day I moved in that would inevitably leave my ass numb, but since changing zip codes, I became spoiled. Until I was forced to eat alone earlier tonight, I didn’t realize how much sharing a meal with Kaz meant to me.
I sigh and close the book and drop it in my lap. I grab my phone from the bed and check the time.
Eleven.
He’s still not home.
I’m tempted to text Kaz to find out when he’ll be here, but I don’t want to be another burden he has to deal with.
My eyes shift to the empty side of the bed before traveling to the armchair.
After what we shared this afternoon, where is he going to sleep?
I’d love nothing more than to fall asleep with my head against his muscular chest, but fake girlfriends can’t make demands.
My gaze lowers to my phone.
Go to bed, Harley.
