“But you interview well!” Duke insisted, speaking loudly enough that I could still hear him when I changed the phone to my other shoulder. “You’re personable! You’re hot! How can they say no to you?”
“Pretty fucking easily, Duke. They said I didn’t look committed because there’s a gap in my resume.”
“You were taking care of Nana.”
“Doesn’t matter to them.”
“Like hell! What’s with these rich dickheads and not understanding this shit? Honestly, I’m disappointed in the human race,” Duke grumbled, cracking into the phone connection.
I snorted. At least I knew Duke would always be there.
“Okay, okay,” I chuckled, flipping through my keys until I found the one to Lucy’s apartment, “I have to go. I just got back to his place.”
“Sounds like your boyfriend already,” Duke grumbled. “Spending the night at his place.”
“This was your idea, remember? I’m living here for an entire month because of you.”
“That doesn’t mean you fall in love with him, Knox!”
“I didn’t say I was!” I hissed, pausing at the door now that it was unlocked because I didn’t need Lucy overhearing this.
“I can hear you blushing through the phone,” Duke sang into my ear. “And I know how you act when you’re into someone. You’re rusty, but you’re not dead.”
“None of that sentence made any actual sense, you fucking idiot. I have to go.” I hung up before he could respond, pocketing the phone.
I could feel my own scowl, and I was ignoring the heat that his words had brought to my cheeks. I wasn’t in love with Lucy. I barely knew the guy. I’d left him this morning after I made breakfast, his plate on the kitchen island as he finished up with the red paint on his brush. He saw me put his lunch in the fridge, too, because I was going to be gone until now, well after dinner, given I’d scheduled three interviews back-to-back for different restaurants across town that were looking for a chef.
None of the interviews had gone particularly well. They had a problem with my resume and the gap in employment. No executive chef experience, which meant they didn’t even want to hire me for sous chef positions. I might have to start looking intohead chefs and kitchen managers now. Just widen the scope a bit more.
I pushed open the door and let it click shut behind me.
“Hello?” I called out with a frown, shrugging off my jacket and hanging it beside Lucy’s expensive one in the coat closet by the door.
No response.
I toed off my shoes and crept into the apartment. There wasn’t much light, and the silence was almost stifling.
It was a fucking horror movie, that's what it was. I should expect some masked creep to jump out from around the corner in the living room any moment.
Where was Lucy?
I jolted back as a form jumped up in front of me, stumbling and nearly falling back against the front door.
“Jackson!” I hissed, hand over my chest to calm my racing heart.
Jackson Pawlick meowed, perching himself on the tall table in the entryway, right next to the vase of fresh flowers that Lucy’s sister had sent yesterday. Jackson had already pulled out the roses and discarded them onto the floor.
“You scared me, little guy.” I stepped forward and scratched behind his red-splotched ears. He really did look like his namesake, I realized, once Lucy showed me the paintings Jackson Polluck had made in his time.
Jackson purred and pushed his little head into my hand.
“Is your dad not here, buddy?” I chuckled, scooping Jackson up.
He leaned his face into my neck and nuzzled into me, his body folding up like an accordion so he could be curled into a ball in my chest.
I stepped further into the apartment and stilled as I glanced out the windows at the skyline outside.
Lucy was still at that damn easel.
