Minnie:Where do you keep the detergent?
Me:On the wire rack above the washing machine.
Minnie:Do you keep spare lightbulbs in the house?
Me:Check the top right of the hall closet.
Minnie:Do you own a vacuum sealer?
Me:Is that something for cleaning?
Minnie: For food.
Me:Oh, gotcha. No, I don’t have one.
“You’re texting a lot,” Viktor observes as he peeks over my shoulder in search of blackmail material, I can only assume.
I place my whole hand over his face and push him back. “Personal space, dude.”
He squawks in protest, then licks my palm.
“Gross.” I wipe my hand on his shirt. “And no, I’m texting Minnie. You know, myassistant?The woman who lives in my house?”
“You’re banging your assistant? Even Dante knows you never shit where you eat.”
“No.She’s asking me aboutlightbulbs,for fuck’s sake.” I shove the phone up under his nose. “Happy?”
To my consternation, Viktor takes the phone from me and scrolls through the messages. “These are quaint. Very domestic. That’s wifey shit right there.”
He pushes the phone back toward me. My stomach dips, because for half a second, I picture it—her in my kitchen, her voice in my house—and that shouldn’t feel good.
And I guess he’s… kinda not wrong. I mean, he’s extremely wrong about my relationship with Minnie, but not about the part where I invited a stranger to live through my house and paw through my stuff. I never lived with any of my exes, but I’ve already talked Minnie through a panic attackandleft her unsupervised with all my earthly possessions.
Viktor takes my silence for agreement. “Ha! Youarebanging your assistant!”
“Knock it off, or I’ll tell your wife you were harassing me on the job.”
Viktor immediately backs off, though he makes a big show of sulking.
I shake my head at his nonsense. “Tell me, Captain Abbott, what’s it like to be married to the only woman you know who could, and does, kick your ass on a regular basis?”
I expect him to launch at me with a comeback, but instead, his eyes go dreamy and unfocused. “Honestly? It’s fantastic.”
Well, shit, and now I’m jealous. Maybe someday I’ll end up in the kind of relationship that makes me half as happy as Viktor’s marriage to Knova makes him.
My phone buzzes again.
Minnie:You’re out of salt.
Minnie:And garlic powder.
I smile down at my phone. She’s practically a stranger, but it’s a pleasant novelty to know that I have someone waiting for me at home. Someone who is… cooking? She’s touching my things. Using my kitchen. Acting like the space is hers, too. And somehow… I like that.
Me:No problem. I’ll pick up more tomorrow.
* * *
It didn’t occur to me to ask exactlywhyMinnie was going through my herbs and spices, so when I open the front door later, I’m not prepared for the sight of my kitchen.
