Cruel Money (Cruel 1)

I desperately needed a break from the desk I had been utilizing in my room. Walks down the beach were nice for brainstorming. The deck was good for piecing it all together. But I was a creature of habit, and I liked a little structure for my work, which was how I ended up in the library.

With a yawn, I pushed open the door to the library and was immediately attacked by Totle.

“Sorry,” I murmured when I saw Penn sitting at the bay window, scribbling furiously into his notebook. The pen scratching against the paper was music to my ears.

His hand yanked on his hair, as if it might help him fit his writing together into a masterpiece. “Do you need this space?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Nope. Didn’t know you were in here.”

“I can leave,” he said quickly.

I scooped up Totle. “Just going to steal him.”

Penn laughed. “By all means.”

Monday night, he ordered pizza. It was the first time he’d actively sought me out in our first week as accidental roommates. And he only did it to make sure that I didn’t have any allergies or if I had a pizza preference. When it showed up, he knocked on my door to let me know it was here.

I ate a piece in the kitchen as I jotted down notes on my newest character arc. I’d given up on the other book. This one was better. Much better.

Tuesday, we had cold pizza for breakfast in front of the kitchen. Totle stared up at us, begging for scraps. I found I liked Penn better in his unassuming clothes with stubble on his jaw and ink on his fingers.

Wednesday, I watched him write on the back deck. His intensity was unparalleled. I didn’t know what he was writing. Philosophy, of course. But besides the fact that he taught ethics, I knew nothing about what had driven him into the study. I didn’t know how much of what he’d once told me about his passions was true. It’d seemed true, and still, I was hesitant to believe that it was.

But this was what had interested me about him in the first place. That damn leather notebook and ballpoint pen. A far-off look that said he was discovering the secrets of the universe and that he had plenty of secrets of his own. As a writer, his love for the written word drew me in like a moth to a flame.

What was he writing?

Why did he have to look like that when he did it?

Thursday, I had to deal with the interior decorator who wanted me to walk her around the house all day. She seemed talented, which made me question why she wanted my input. I didn’t get any writing done. I didn’t see Penn either.

Friday, I played catch-up on my work and crashed into bed early. I was exhausted from all the words I’d written. It was finally flowing like water down a river. I had definitely made the right choice in switching books.

A weight landed on the bed.

My eyes cracked open, and I jolted backward in fear. What the hell was that?

I peered through the darkness. That was when I saw a small puppy-shaped blob walking across the bed. I relaxed with a sigh. I must have left the door cracked. Totle scratched at the covers, and I pulled them back, so he could crawl under them. He nuzzled into my stomach and then unceremoniously plopped down. I giggled while petting his head. Then, I promptly fell back asleep.

Saturday morning, I woke to frantic calls from outside my door.

“Aristotle!” Penn cried. “Totle! Totle, come out now. We’re not playing a game. Totle!”

A second later, Penn pushed into my room without an invitation and rushed forward as if he were determined to search every inch of the house.

“Have you seen Aristotle?”

I pointed at my chest. “Safe and sound.”

“Oh Jesus,” Penn said. He sank down onto the bed. “Thank god. I didn’t know where he was or if he’d gotten out last night. I was terrified that he’d gotten onto the beach or the pool.”

“Well, don’t worry. He’s fine. He just found a new place to sleep.”

“What a lucky guy,” he deadpanned.

I cracked up. “Want to see him?”

“Is that an invitation?”

“And you were doing so well,” I said with an eye roll. “Get out of my bedroom.”

“I’m kidding. Yes, let me see Aristotle.”

“I heard you call him Totle though.”

Penn offered a smirk. “It’s catching.”

I peeled the covers back inch by inch to reveal the small dog curled up against me. He opened one eye in disdain, as if to say, How dare you take the covers away. Then, he saw his dad, and his tail started wagging.

“There you are, you little shit. You scared me,” Penn said. “Who knew I could ever freak out this much over anything?”