Okay—maybe he thought replying,You can stay with me, in my bedwould be contravening the Just Friends treaty they’d agreed, but really, couldn’t he have at least said,Awesome, it’ll be great to see you again?
Depressed and deflated, Helen reached for her phone to read Sebastian’s latest message.
Fritz is a fast-food place downtown off Granville Street, they do the best fries. You’ll have to try them.
Huh.You’llhave to try them, notwe’llhave to.
Not,I’ll take you there.
Regretting the money she’d spent on her passport, Helen stared at the list of flights that she was less likely to book now than she had been five minutes ago.
She wouldn’t cry. Nope. She wouldn’t.
Instead, she calmly sipped her tea, and when the letterbox clattered and an envelope landed with a thud on the mat, she calmly went to pick it up.
Her new tenancy agreement. She pulled out the letter as she walked back to the kitchen.
Please read through carefully and return a signed copy to me at your earliest convenience.
Regards,
Mr. C. Roberts.
So this was it. Sebastian may have disappointed her just now, but at least Helen had secured her home for the next two years. Ignoring the pang of hurt caused by Sebastian’s texts, she read the first page of the agreement, checking the rent amount and lease expiry date were as had been agreed, then scan-read the additional clauses about paying the rent on time, keeping the place in good condition, and tidying shoes away so people didn’t trip over them. Then there was—
What?
Helen reread additional clause three:
Tenant must always tidy shoes away so as not to cause trip hazards.
And then clause four:
Food scraps for chickens must be placed in a closed bucket and emptied daily.
Clause five:
The kitchen table and worktops must not be used as a dumping ground for all loose ends.
Clause six:
A decent shower, preferably with an electric pump, must be installed.
What the hell was this?
“Mr. Roberts!” Ready to run after the estate manager, Helen flung the front door open.
And slammed straight into Sebastian.
He lifted her off her feet and twirled her around until she was laughing and crying and smacking him over the head with the contract. “Was this all your doing? Did you buy the estate?”
“I love you, Hobbs, but how much money do you think I have?”
“I don’t care.” She kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his mouth, not believing he was here, holding her. She kissed him again. “What were all those texts about just now?”
“That was payback for telling me you were on a date.” He set her on her feet, still holding her tight. “I lost a lot of sleep that night.”
“Were you jealous?”
