“It was my grandmother’s house,” he goes on, “but it’s mine now, and I’ve only just moved in. It’s been sitting empty for long enough that it needs a good shine. Could probably use some organizing too, and some decluttering. That kind of thing.” He tilts his head and raises his brows. “Is that something you’d be interested in?”
And I swear he knows. He knows that he’s dangling a delicious carrot in front of me. Except?—
“Definitely not.”
He blinks at me, his brows lifting. “Oh?” he says. “Not at all?”
“Would you allow your sister to go clean the house of a man she’s met only once before?” I say.
A snort escapes him. “Denice is not someone I have the power toallowornot allow. She does as she pleases.” His gaze roams over me. “You strike me as someone similar.”
“I mostly am,” I concede with a grudging nod. “But still.”
He hums, looking thoughtful, and then pulls out his phone. He presses a few buttons and looks at me as a ringing sound fills the little office, setting the phone face-up on his desk.
“What are you doing—” I say with a frown, but he holds up one finger to silence me.
And a second later, the voice of myactualboss blares from the speaker. “Did I or did I not tell you that if you called me about work I would flay you alive?” Denice says.
“Sorry,” Roman says cheerfully. “But it’s not totally work-related. So I thought we could call this a gray area.”
“The next fifty poopy diapers are on you?—”
“I’ll do them,” he cuts her off, waving one hand. “I’ll do them. Now vouch for me, please.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then Denice speaks again. “What?”
“Vouch for me,” he repeats, glancing up at me. “I have Aurora Marigold here. She’d like to double check that she would be allowed a second job in a non-related field, so I asked her if she wanted to clean and organize Grandma’s house, just to make it more habitable.”
“Oh, yes,” Denice says immediately—and to my surprise. “Please do, Aurora.Someoneneeds to. All those surfaces probably have a good inch of dust buildup.”
“I—” I begin, but I break off. It’s not often that I find myself lost for words, but here I am. “Really?”
“Sure,” Denice says, and I can picture her shrugging. “As long as you don’t go work for a competitor, and as long as your daily work isn’t affected, I don’t mind you getting another job. And because it’s you, I know those things won’t be an issue. Roman’s a punk, but if he’s willing to pay you to do something you enjoy, I say do it.” She pauses. “Unless you don’t want to, obviously.”
“I—okay. Thanks.” I’m still stuttering, but I can’t believe the audacity of the man in front of me.
“Thanks, Denice,” Roman says, picking up the phone, his eyes still on me. “Tell Nessa her favorite person misses her.”
“I’ll tell her her favorite person is going to change her next fifty diapers,” Denice grumbles, and Roman grins.
“That’s fine too. Bye.” He hangs up and then leans back in his chair again. “So?” he says to me. “What do you think?”
“So when I wanted to call Denice, you said no, but whenyouwanted to call her, it was suddenly fine?”
“Who says it was fine?” he asks. He gestures to the phone. “Did you hear that? I’ve got diaper duty now. Answer the question. Am I giving you this job or not?”
I debate for a few seconds…but only a few. “It depends on the pay.”
Now he stands up, the chair squeaking, his hands on the desk top as he leans across slightly. He seems to loom larger as he moves closer. “Better than minimum wage,” he says.
My pulse leaps at the possibility. “How much better?”
The corners of his lips quirk, and he leans further still across the desk, close enough now that I catch a hint of his sharp, fresh scent. “Name your price.”
I frown. “What if I say something outrageous?”
His shoulders lift into a careless, arrogant shrug. “I can afford it.”
