It could be a treasure trove of materials to rival what they’d discovered hidden in her shop’s wall. It could also be every newspaper published since the moon launch, piled up in floor-to-ceiling stacks like a maze.
There really was no telling which and that’s what made it exciting.
Before she knew it the car had stopped and Liam was shifting the Jeep into park.
“We’re here?” she asked.
“We’re here. You have the landlady’s apartment number?”
“I do.”
“Then let’s go.” Liam pulled the key out of the ignition, grumbling, “I hope all the professor’s shit fits in here.”
“We don’t have to take everything home with us. We can look for one of those clothing donation boxes and drop his clothes and shoes in there. Unless you’d like to keep a tweed sports coat or two for yourself. Ooo, and maybe a pair of those nice brown corduroy pants to go with it.” She sent him a smirk knowing very well that not only was Liam a jeans and henley kind of guy, there was no way he’d want Lionel’s old clothes.
Dark brows rose above ocean blue eyes. “Wouldn’t it teach you a lesson if I did raid old Lionel’s closet and wore his professor outfits every day.”
She imagined that, Liam dressed as a young, hot professor that would make all the co-ed girls fall in love with him. Maybe with a pair of horn-rimmed glasses. She didn’t hate it. In fact, she kind of liked it. Was this the female equivalent of the male hot for teacher or sexy librarian fantasy?
“No,” he said flatly.
“No, what? What are you talking about?” she asked turning to look at him in the driver’s seat.
“I can see those wheels turning in your head. You’re not dressing me up like some professor.”
“Why not? I think you’d look kind of sexy…”
Those brows rose impossibly higher. “If we’re talking role playing, I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a lab coat, a pair of stilettos and nothing else.”
She frowned, not sure whether to feel flattered or annoyed by Liam’s quid pro quo demands. She’d have to think about it.
Meanwhile, Liam was already out of the Jeep and standing next to her side of the car. He opened the door for her and she scrambled out.
The treasure trove that was Lionel’s apartment awaited...
Chapter Twenty
Standing between Natalie and whatever treasures Lionel’s apartment might hold was Lionel’s landlady.
Mildred Roth, in a well-worn robe and slippers, stood in her doorway looking Natalie and Liam up and down suspiciously.
Next to her hovered the ghost of her recently departed husband Ralph, his toupee perched slightly askew on his head, where it would sit for the rest of his afterlife.
“Can I see some identification?” Mildred asked, arms folded over her amply buxom chest. “Since my husband Ralph died last year,” she repeated for the second time in as many minutes, “I can’t be too careful about who I let in.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure. Of course,” Natalie agreed.
Although, did Mildred really believe that someone other than Natalie would show up to collect Lionel’s clothes and junk mail the day after she’d spoken with his publisher and arranged this visit?
Natalie reached for the purse hanging on her shoulder. She pawed through it in search of her wallet, hiding somewhere amid the old receipts, slightly used tissues, countless lip balms and one dusty unwrapped mint.
Purses were bottomless pits of life’s debris. Men didn’t know how easy they had it. Liam’s wallet was right there, easily accessible in the pocket of his jeans.
Finally her hand hit on her wallet, which then opened up a whole new search as she pulled out an insurance card, her AAA card, various store loyalty cards, the local gas station’s credit card, a Visa card, her bank card, a gift card for a local restaurant and finally, her driver’s license, which of course was last.
“Here you go,” she said, handing it over as she ignored Liam’s amused expression.
She nearly apologized to Mildred for the delay but smothered the urge. Mildred had done this to herself by asking for identification to begin with.
