A beep. The faint buzz of a phone on speaker mode.
"Finally," another woman's voice says, tinny through the speaker. "I was starting to think that you are too busy to talk to your best friend."
"I'm working, Jess."
"You're always working."
I lower the gun. Slowly. Rest it back on my thigh. My pulse hasn't spiked.
It should have.
An unknown person in my space, armed or not, should trigger something. But all I feel is the weight of the weapon and the faint burn of whiskey in my chest.
It must be someone from the concierge service. I'd forgotten about the arrangement. Artan must have coordinated it. Restocking the apartment while I was gone. Making sure everything was in place when I got back.
Except I came back early.
And she's here.
"Someone has to pay the bills," the woman in the apartment says. There's a smile in her voice. Not forced. Natural.
"Between the concierge gig and the grocery store, you're running yourself into the ground," Jess says. "When was the last time you took a night off?"
"I'll take a night off when the debts are paid and I've figured out where I'm living."
A pause. The sound of a refrigerator door opening. Something heavy slides onto a shelf. Glass bottles clink together.
"They're not your debts, Lily. And itisyour house!"
Lily.
The woman in my kitchen has a name now.
"They're my brother's debts. Same thing."
"No, it's not. He gambled them away. Not you."
Lily sighs. Soft. Resigned. The kind of sound someone makes when they've had this argument too many times to count. "He's sorting it out now. He stopped gambling. He's going to be a father. He's starting a family. He needs the house more than I do."
"The house your aunt left toyoubecause she knew he'd gamble it away if she left it to him."
"He needs it. I'll figure something out." A beat. A smile creeps back into her tone. "Besides, I'm going to be an aunt. That's something, right? More family."
Another pause. Longer this time. A cabinet closes. Something rustles. Paper, maybe. A bag being folded.
When Jess speaks again, her voice is quieter. "Lily, you don't owe your brother everything just because he's the only family you have left."
"I'm not giving him everything. Just the house." Lily laughs. Light. Deflecting. "I'm fine. Really."
"You need a better job. You have qualifications. You used to be a sub-chef at a Michelin-star restaurant, for god's sake."
"Yeah, well." Lily's tone shifts. Still light, but there's an edge now. Humor laced with something sharper. "I didn’t like my boss's wandering hands. And how he kept telling me he liked his women chubby. I don’t know what was worse, him calling me fat or the way he used to corner me in the walk-in."
She says it like a joke. It's not.
"That son of a bitch," Jess mutters. "You should have reported him."
"And then what? He knows half the high-end kitchens in the city. He made sure I couldn't get another job anywhere decent. I'm taking a break from restaurants anyway. It was stressful."
