“Wow. That feels great, Hudson. Your hands are amazing.”
I hold them up and wiggle my fingers. “These things?”
She’s look back and up at me. “Yep. Those things.”
“They can do a lot more.”
Her voice drops and gets a bit husky. “Oh, I know.”
“Maybe later, after we eat some steak. I’ll show what else these babies can do.”
“Hm. Yeah. Maybe we can.”
I lean over her shoulder a little to read her screen. I don’t like what I’m seeing. “You’re applying for a job in Iowa?”
She glances up at me, a frown appears. “I’ve applied for three in this area, but there aren’t a whole lot of entry-level jobs in the non-profit sector. Ones I qualify for, anyway.”
“I think you should stick to Chicago. Don’t confuse the process.”
My office chair swivels; Willa takes full advantage. “What do you mean? Confuse the process?”
“I mean.” Shit. What did I mean by that? “I mean that if you start applying out of this area and you get that job, you’ll have to make a big decision.” One that will impact more than just Willa. I sure as fuck don’t want her moving to goddamn Iowa.
“Yes, but I need a job, Hudson. My time in my apartment is numbered. My phone’s going to be shut off this week. I wouldn’t be surprised if my electricity isn’t already off.”
“You haven’t been paying your bills?” I’m shocked.
I get an angry glare. “If you must know, I paid them until my money ran out. I’ve got rent covered for another month, but the rest had to go.”
“You have to have electricity, Willa.”
“I’ll be fine.”
What the ever-loving fuck? “That’s ridiculous. You’ll move in here. Give up your place.”
I turn to leave the room when she spouts. “Uh. No.”
I’m back in front of her in two steps. “This isn’t up for argument. You’re not living in a sauna with no electricity. I’ll buy you a phone––add you to my cell service.”
“No. I didn’t tell you all that so you’d swoop in and save me.” She rolls her eyes. “Geesh.”
Geesh?She’s acting awfully blasé about all of this when this is important. “Willa. Don’t be stubborn. It’s one thing to be obstinate about the dress, but this is another thing altogether. It’s serious.”
She whips her chair around, slams the lid to her laptop shut, and pushes the chair out from beneath her so hard it hits me in the thighs.
Ouch.
I watch as she stomps out of my office and makes a turn left in the direction of the guest room. I follow her. When I peer inside the room, Willa’s shoving her dirty clothes back into the bag that we brought them in. “What are you doing?”
“Going home.”
She can’t be serious. “Willa?” I’ve got an idea. “What about Barney?”
“He’s coming with me.”
I need to play this right. “You’re going to take Barney back to the hottest apartment in Chicago? With no lights?”
“Cats see in the dark. He loves the heat. I’ll be sure to keep the window open.” She stops talking and stomps her foot. “Stop trying to make me feel rotten about my cat. He’smycat. I’ve had him forever.”
