“I mean you are,” Lexi said, “but it’s totally okay. This is your space. I shouldn’t have invited myself in without asking. That’s not right. Just because I have an open-door policy doesn’t mean that other people do.”
“You’re not letting strangers live with you?” I demanded.
She shrugged. “If I had the room, I’d certainly let people crash at my place if they needed somewhere to stay. Some people just need a helping hand every once in a while.”
“That’s how you end up with a squatter,” I said flatly.
“Or that’s how you end up with a new friend.” She flashed me a grin.
“Anyway I’m totally not squatting here, I actually have an official address, I just—you have a dryer,” she said in a rush, “and my building doesn’t. I have to go to the laundromat. It’s a whole thing, and it’s so damp my clothes weren’t going to dry. So I borrowed your dryer. I totally just stayed in your laundry room. It’s not like I was wandering around your house naked or anything, er …”
She made that high-pitched squeaking noise again, like she was a mouse faced with a very hungry cat.
“Oh, did you go shopping?” She finally noticed the bags.
Dammit.
“Of course not. I was just using those to carry paperwork.” The lie was easy.
“Do you need me to help you organize it?” Lexi offered. “Since I’m here.” She reached for a bag.
“No.” I growled.
Lexi started, looking up at me apprehensively in the low light from the desk lamp.
I felt horrible.
I didn’t want her to fear me, just to go away.
“It’s actually …” I pulled out a box from the bag. “I bought you some shoes.”
Her mouth made a little O.
“Me?” She made that rubber chicken noise, pressing her hands to her chest.
“It’s not because I find you in any way charming,” I assured her, “or endearing. You can’t wear those shoes you have on. It’s a liability. You could hurt yourself on my property, and then I would be liable. Shoes are cheaper than a lawsuit.”
I stuck the box out to her.
She took it slowly and lifted the lid.
“Let me know if they’re the wrong size.”
“I don’t care what size they are,” she said in awe as she pulled the shoes out of the white tissue paper. “I’m wearing them.”
She placed the leather shoes on the floor. I could see they were too small as she tried to wedge her feet in.
“Maybe a bigger size?”
“I will cut my toe off,” she insisted, waving me away.
“Please don’t.” I pulled out another box and handed it to her.
“A five and a half? Even better.”
“What size do you need?” I belatedly asked her.
“Any size you got.”
