“Help me out, please.”
“You don’t even know my name. You get me in trouble all the time and…”
“Steffi Roberts,” he interrupted sheepishly. “I got your mail once.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, it was a credit card ad, so I tossed it.”
“You got my mail – and didn’t give it back,” she uttered bluntly. “That’s a federal offense.”
“I wasn’t stealing it.”
“I wasn’t deliberately forcing the car to leak oil,” she countered and glared at him. “If you are going to have me evicted, then you are on your own, buster, and I’m three seconds from opening that door so they can feast on your ornery carcass…neighbor,” she finished mockingly with a hushed snarl that made his eyes widen in understanding.
She meant it – and he knew it.
“I’m not, but please help me get out of here and away from them.”
“How?”
“Pretend you’re my fiancée.”
“Ha! I’m not that stupid… and neither are they.”
“If we pretend that we’re engaged, they’ll back off slightly because then I’m not available.”
“Boy, you really think you're something – don’t you?”
“I’m loaded,” he tossed out haphazardly like it was something impressive, but that only served to piss her off more. Did he think she would do anything for a buck? Heck no! She might be broke from the lofty rent payments, but she had her dignity… despite the plunger in her hand.
“Full,” she agreed, finishing his statement. “You’re absolutely loaded full of…”
“I’m rich, Steffi,” he interrupted her quickly in a hushed voice. “I’m rich, famous, and single…”
“You think I care about that?”
“I’ll fix your oil leaks on the car,” he begged softly. “Heck, I’ll buy my fake-fiancée a new car… just help me out, and I’ll make it worth your time.”
“You won’t get me evicted either…” she hedged for a moment – okay, so maybe her dignity wavered slightly at his offer because the quote to fix her leaking valve cover gasket and oil pan was a staggering four digits.
“No – I swear it.”
“You better have been telling the truth.”
“I am.”
“Fine,” she sighed dramatically, shocked that she was going along with this stupid idea of his. He really thought so highly of himself that he imagined they would back off the moment he pretended to be engaged. “Stand behind me, and I’ll handle it, you big rich wuss.”
“Gee, such loving endearments.”
“I can think of better ones…”
“Why am I suddenly frightened?”
“Maybe you’re smarter than you look,” she muttered, grabbing the plunger in one hand and the dustpan in the other. “On the count of three, you pull open the door and let me handle this crowd. You wanted a fiancée, then for the next few minutes, you’ve got one, but we’ll have to sell this, so follow my lead.”
He didn’t say a word, except to grimly stare at the door, bracing himself.
