Noah was indeed deeply asleep, so I followed behind her.
She punched in the code to the main doors, then pulled out a keychain with just two keys on it. She definitely traveled light.
Her apartment was tiny, a single exposed-brick room with a high ceiling and a bed behind an Ikea bookshelf that acted as aroom divider. There was a kitchenette with a small counter and a closed door that I assumed led to a bathroom.
“Where do you keep the rest of your luggage?” I asked.
She laughed at me as she fished around under the kitchen sink. “The ‘rest of’ it? I have one suitcase that’s currently in the back of your car. We can put everything else in trash bags. Won’t be the first time.”
She handed me a bag and pointed at a rolling rack of clothing. “My stuff is to the left of the green hanger.”
I walked over to the rack. “That can’t be right. There’s only…” I quickly counted the items, “…seven things hanging here.”
She pulled a drawer out of a dresser and emptied its contents into a garbage bag. “Everything else is in that suitcase we just talked about.”
Damn. I was used to women who traveled with a half dozen steamer trunks for a weekend away. I didn’t know what to do with a woman whose entire life fit into one suitcase and a few bags.
“So who does this clothing belong to?” I asked, pointing to the crowded section of the rack.
“My roommate Tasha.”
I paused to glance around the space again. It was the size of my primary bathroom. The entire apartment could fit in one room at my house, so how was she managing to share it?
“Roommate?” I demanded.
She stopped dumping stuff in her trash bag to glare at me. “I said don’t judge.”
I pointed to the only bed in the space. “Do you snuggle with said roommate?”
“You’re ridiculous,” Nina grumbled at me. “She’s a travel writer. Our schedules for actually being in town pretty much never overlap. We both agreed that it made sense to co-live. It’s not a true roommate scenario since we’re hardly ever here at the same time. I think we had all of one night of overlap last year—and on that night, yeah, we shared. We’re best friends; it wasn’t a big deal.”
“Ah, understood.” I folded the few outfits, trying not to picture how she looked in each one.
“You don’t have to be so delicate about them,” she insisted. “It’s not like any of it is designer. I got it all from Target. Throw it in that bag.”
I paused to frown at her. “But it’syourstuff. Why wouldn’t you treat it with care?”
She shrugged and moved on to pack the bathroom while I looked around the space again.
It felt transitional. Not like a home at all. I hated picturing her sleeping in the depressing, undecorated apartment. There wasn’t a single personal item like a framed photo in the place.
“Okay, I’m all set.” As promised, it had taken less than ten minutes.
Seeing her with half-full trash bags as her luggage snagged my heart. Nina deserved so much more.
“Let me.”
I was shocked that she actually let me carry the bags outside to the car. We climbed in, and Noah didn’t even stir.
“Home now?” Danny asked.
“Please.”
The car went silent for the remainder of the drive as we all contemplated what came next. I watched Nina take in the scenery change as we left her part of the world and headed into mine.
They were worlds apart, and when I looked at Nina, I could see her processing the changes. Wider streets, bigger trees, fancier cars. It was almost impossible to see the impressive homes, but the gates and shrubbery indicated that each and every one was a mansion.
The main gates to my house slid open, and she shifted in her seat to get a better view of her temporary home.
