Tara giggles as we make our way to the second floor.
“Mac’s room is down that way.” She tips her head to the right, then leads me to a door at the opposite end of the hall and pushes it open. “And here you are.”
“Where is he, by the way? I was hoping to meet him.”
“Oh, he should be here any minute.” She glances down at her watch. “He’s always on time. Early, really, so this is unlike him.”
I smile at the worried affection in her voice. She has a motherly feel that makes me miss my own. Mama’s probably stress-baking cookies right now. I should call her. Let her know I’m settling in okay.
“How long have you worked for Mac?” I ask Tara as we step into my new room. It looks just like the pictures, right down to the white duvet and the narrow dresser against the far wall.
“Officially, seven years. Unofficially, I changed his diapers.” She huffs a laugh. “He’s my cousin, the baby of the family.”
“I didn’t realize you were related. That must be nice, working with family.” I run a hand across the comforter. It’s as soft and fluffy as it looks.
“It is.” She smiles. “Mac actually hired me less because he needed an assistant and more because I fell in love with an American and wanted to live close to him before we married.”
“He’s a hopeless romantic, then.”
Her lips tip down the slightest bit before her smile brightens again. “You could say that.”
I wonder what that’s about, but all I ask is, “Where are you from originally?” She doesn’t have an accent, as far as I can tell.
“Canada. Red Deer. It’s in Alberta, between Calgary and Edmonton.”
I’m guessing that’s where my new roommate is from, too. But before I can ask, the sound of the front door opening and closing carries up the stairs, followed by footsteps.
“Ten bucks says he’s rummaging through the fridge. That boy never stops eating.” She gestures for me to follow her.
I leave my guitar near the bed and shift Grace in my arms just as my phone vibrates. I fish it out as we head down the stairs. Grace’s purr thrums through my chest, almost matching the little stutter in my own when I read the message:
Miles:
You can call me whatever you’d like, honey. When can I see you again?
At the base, I set Grace on the floor, and she darts toward the kitchen. Tara and I follow her trail.
My thumbs hover over the screen. Do I play it cool? Hard to get? That’s never been me. So why start now?
Me:
Tonight?
The three little dots pop up almost immediately, dancing across the bottom of the screen.
Miles:
Can I take you on a proper date?
Okay
I’m still wearing a stupid grin when I walk into the kitchen. Sure enough, Mac is half-hidden behind the open fridge door.
I tuck my phone into my pocket.
“What’d I tell you?” Tara says fondly to me. Then she turns on Mac. “I told you our new cat-sitter was moving in today. Why on Earth are you so late?”
The fridge door swings shut, revealing the last man I expect to see here.
