When I get home, I unpack the groceries. Connor’s card is still in the same spot it was when I set it down two days ago, after deciding not to call him. Today’s trip to the grocery store was a good reminder that I need funds. I don’t particularly care for ramen, and that’s exactly where I’m headed.
I pick up my phone and dial the number, glancing at the card to be sure I’ve typed it in correctly. This time, I don’t hesitate. No hovering thumb.One, two, three, push.
“Hello?” He answers on the third ring. He sounds frustrated, and I almost hang up the phone. Rock music blares in the background.
“Um, hi. It’s Brynn Montgomery.” My teeth catch my lower lip and I look at the ceiling.If this job didn’t pay in cash, there’s no way I’d be calling him.
“Oh, so you have a last name?”
I frown.That’swhat he says to me? “Most people do.” I exhale loudly after I say it.
He laughs. “You’re a bit like a bear, you know that? Grumpy and ill-tempered.”
“Oh, really? I just met someone who fits that description far better than I do.” Cradling the phone between my ear and my shoulder, I open a cabinet and pull out a saucepan.
“Let me guess,” he says warily. “You met Walt Jenkins.”
I pause. “He didn’t give me his last name, so I can’t say for certain. Apparently that’s common among us grumpy and ill-tempered people.”
“Old guy, lips turned so far down it’s like an upside down horseshoe on his face?”
“That’s the one,” I respond, taking a can opener to the three cans of tomatoes I just bought. I’m going to make marinara and freeze half.
“You should stay away from him, Brynn.”
My eyes meet the ceiling as I roll them. “He’s harmless, and besides, it’s kind of hard to stay away from a neighbor.”
Connor is silent. If it weren’t for the music still playing wherever he is, I’d think he hung up.
“Still there?” I ask, pouring olive oil in the pan and adding diced garlic.
Connor clears his throat. “Do you live next door to Cassidy?”
I picture the tiny blonde mom and her cute little girl. I’ve heard Brooklyn in the backyard every morning, laughing and shrieking. She does it again every evening.
“Yes. Why? Do you know her?” Leaning over the pan, I take a deep breath. The warmth of the oil has released the fragrance of the garlic, and it’s kicking my salivary glands into overdrive.
Connor doesn’t answer. Not with words. He laughs and laughs.
“What’s funny?” I ask, irritated.
“Nothing,” he answers. “Maybe I’ll tell you someday.”
“Whatever,” I reply frostily, ready to be off the phone. I don’t care if he never tells me. I’ll be long gone as soon as I can manage it. “I called to see if that job was still available.”
“Nope,” he says, the answer coming so quickly it’s almost on top of my question.
Shit. What am I going to do now?The oil pops and a drop lands on the pad of my thumb. I suck my thumb between my teeth, my mind racing.
“Just kidding.” Connor laughs. “It’s available.”
My eyes squeeze shut as I try not to hang up on my new boss. “Pick you up tomorrow morning? Eight?”
“I’ll be ready,” I say, dumping the cans of tomatoes into the pan. “How did you know I need a ride?”
“Estimated guess. Brynn?” Connor’s voice is suddenly serious.
“Yeah?”
