“Sure.”
When he leaned back and closed his eyes, I checked him out like he had me.
His signature summer tank looked like he’d had it since he was a teenager. His shorts—too short in my opinion, but it was the style these days—showed off his sculpted legs. Yeah, Ad had a great body. Why didn’t it do anything for me? If only it would, I’d know there was hope for me to have a normal life after all.
“I envy how cool your apartment stays.”
As far as apartments went, he didn’t have much to envy. His was ten times the size of mine. The owners of the building, Adler’s parents, had combined all the apartments on the top level into one—and that’s where Adler lived. Which meant Adler Livingston was also my landlord.
“How was work today?” he asked, taking the glass of wine I offered.
“Quiet but also productive.”
“When are the students back?”
“Officially, not until the end of August. But there are so many workshops going on now.”
I worked at my alma mater, the Northeastern College of Music, as an adjunct instructor. It was a step below an adjunct professor, and several steps lower than a tenured professor.
It was my fifth summer as an instructor, and this fall would be the start of my fourth academic year. The private institution, which charged a tuition on par with Harvard but without the same billion-dollar endowment, didn’t pay much, but it was enough that I could afford my apartment and occasionally travel.
This year, though, I’d gone through my entire savings, flying back and forth from Texas.
First, it was to visit my ailing grandfather, the man who had taken my sister, our mother, and me in after my parents’ divorce, and whom my sister had continued to live with after our mother died shortly after I graduated from high school.
It wasn’t just traveling that had left me broke. When my grandfather died, I’d paid the medical bills that the money he left hadn’t covered. I’d also paid for the funeral and burial.
My sister, Sybil, had insisted we ask our father to help, but I’d lied and told her the money wasn’t an issue. I didn’t care if I drained my bank account; I’d never go to that man for money or anything else ever again.
“Oh, by the way, I picked up your mail.” Adler pointed to the table near the front door where he’d set it.
“You did? Um…thanks.” It was one thing that he had a key to my apartment. I didn’t remember anything in my lease that said the landlord kept a key to my mail slot too.
I took another sip of wine and then set it on the table while I flipped through the pile of junk mail. The last piece I came to was from the college.
I picked up my wine and walked over to sit on the end of my bed since Adler was occupying the only chair. I set the glass on the floor and tore open the envelope.
As I skimmed the letter inside, only a handful of words jumped out at me.
We regret to inform you that we will not be renewing your contract for the upcoming fall semester.
“What is it, Millie? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I hated it when he called me Millie. My name was Mila. How fucking hard was that to say? It was the same number of syllables. I folded the paper and shoved it back into the envelope and then went into the kitchen to pour myself more wine. When I came back out, Adler had the letter in his hands.
“Shit, Mila. I’m sorry. They aren’t bringing you back?”
I snatched it from his hands and tucked it under a book on my bedside table. “Guess not.”
When Adler stood and tried to draw me into a hug, I bristled and backed away. I knew it hurt his feelings, but I couldn’t help it. I shook my head to chase away the nightmarish memories of what made me so sensitive to a man’s touch. I was already in a horrible mood; I didn’t need to add thinking about that to the mix.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m not going to be very good company, Ad. Why don’t you go do something fun with your friends tonight?”
“Because I’d rather hang with you.”
“I don’t know why,” I mumbled, vacillating between being royally pissed off and wanting to cry.