Cruel Money (Cruel 1)

Totle’s ears jumped up at that, and he pawed at Penn.

“Yes, yes, I know. I said the magic word. Come on. Let’s get him something.”

I set Totle down on the deck, and he loped awkwardly after Penn. I grabbed a dress to throw over my bathing suit and then followed them both inside to the kitchen. Totle lolled over to the only available piece of carpet and sat down. His tail wagged excitedly, and he then he dropped down with his legs out before him like he was trying to lie down, but with all his limbs, he looked ridiculous.

“Good boy,” Penn said, handing him a treat from a bag.

Totle barked at the treat twice and then went to town, trying to figure out how to eat the thing between his long legs.

“He’s adorable.”

“I know.” Penn grinned down at him. “Ridiculous and needy as hell, but I love him.” He glanced back up at me. “Look, I really wanted to stay here before I knew you were here. I plan to be invisible. We will be roommates and nothing more.”

“Don’t you think your friends will show up all the time and, I don’t know, ruin your solitude…and mine?”

“I didn’t tell them that I was coming back.”

“And they won’t be suspicious that you’re not in New York?”

“I don’t get to see them much when I’m teaching. I’m usually too busy. We meet up for events, which I’ll probably go back for anyway sometimes. No one will be the wiser. I don’t want to be interrupted either.”

“But…”

“Can we have a trial period? Maybe two weeks. And, if it doesn’t work out, then you can kick me out.”

“Of your own house?” I asked skeptically.

“You’re the one getting paid to be here. This is your job. I assume you can kick me out of here if I’m getting in the way of you doing your job.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

I chewed on my bottom lip and looked from him to Aristotle. “And Totle is staying, too?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I can’t leave him alone.”

“He was the deal-breaker.”

“Natalie…come on.”

“No, I meant, if he wasn’t staying, neither were you.”

He laughed. “Well, Aristotle is staying.”

“Okay. Well, I suppose we can try a trial period.”

“Great. I’ll just take Aristotle and get out of your hair.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Totle is no bother. It’s only you I have an issue with.”

He rolled his eyes and reached for the leash on the counter. Totle jumped up and down until Penn put him on the leash. “You’re not like anyone else I know, Natalie.”

“Maybe you should meet more people.”

He walked toward the back door. “I don’t want to meet anyone new.” He glanced at me over his shoulder. “You’re interesting enough all on your own.”

Natalie

11

He had to be bluffing.

I didn’t think it was possible for us to live in the same house and never see each other. Especially with Totle between us and the renovations on the house beginning that afternoon. But still, I’d agreed on two weeks to take this situation for a test drive. I was pretty certain that he’d do something irritating between now and then that would let me kick him out.

I was curious why he was really back. If it was because he had planned to write his book. Or if he had only come back because I was here. I was probably flattering myself with that last thought. It wasn’t like he’d come on to me this weekend or anything. Past experiences still clouded how I viewed him. No rose-colored glasses for me.

But he managed to surprise me.

Time moved easily. Restfully. Peacefully even.

We wandered in and out of each other’s space. The renovations began that afternoon, and I walked through the list I’d been given to handle everything. But for the most part, I let people inside and made sure nothing was stolen or unaccounted for.

Then on Tuesday morning, the aroma of coffee wafted invitingly from the kitchen. When I stepped out there in my gray polka-dot pajama bottoms and white tank, I found a pot of coffee already brewed. There was a note next to it in crisp, neat handwriting that said, Help yourself.

Wednesday, I let Totle swim with me when I was supposed to be doing laps. But no sign of his owner.

On Thursday, I caught my first glimpse of him running with Totle down the beach, shirtless. My cheeks turned the exact shade of a ripe tomato, and I quickly pulled myself away from the window. Later that day, I found a half-empty bowl of water and a set of sandy paw prints next to the outdoor shower.

I didn’t see Penn again until Sunday. I’d been cooped up all weekend, working on my book. It hardly held my interest at this point. There was a new idea scratching at the back of my brain, and I kept going back to it when I knew I should be working on the book I’d promised my agent.