Sliding door 3 ft wide. She looked at it for 2 seconds. Acceptable. The bathroom's shared, Marcus said.
I tried to be upfront about that in the listing. I use it before 6:00 a.m. and after 9:00 p.m. mostly. Lily uses the one in my room. So, the shared bathroom would be mostly yours.
Victoria turned from the closet. You built your routine around a future tenant. I figured whoever moved in deserved to know what they were getting into. She looked at him then, not the apartment.
Him? Like she was recalibrating something. I'll take it, she said. Marcus blinked.
Don't you want to know the I read the listing. $850 utilities split. No smoking. No overnight guests without advanced notice. I have no guests.
She held out her hand. I'd like to sign something tonight if possible. He shook her hand. Her grip was firm.
Her palm was cold. Okay, he said. Okay, she said back. And that was how Victoria Lane moved into Marcus Brooks's apartment on a Tuesday evening 15 minutes early with one suitcase and no explanation.
She moved in three days later with two suitcases, a garment bag, and a box of books she carried herself, refusing twice when Marcus offered to help. "I've got it," she said both times. The second time, he stepped back and let her prove it. Lily watched from the hallway with enormous eyes, holding her giraffe by the neck, the way she did when she was processing something.
"Is she our roommate now?" she whispered to Marcus. Yes. Is she nice? Marcus looked at Victoria, who was carefully stacking her books on the small shelf he'd cleared for her, organizing them with a focus that blocked out the entire room.
I think so, he said. Give her a minute. Lily thought about this seriously. Then she walked up to Victoria and stood about 2 ft behind her until Victoria noticed her.
Victoria turned. Lily held up the giraffe. This is Gerald. He doesn't sleep in my room anymore, so you can have him if you want.
A silence passed through the room like a held breath. Victoria crouched down. Actually crouched heels and blazer and all, so she was at Lily's eye level. "Thank you," she said carefully.
"Why doesn't Gerald sleep in your room anymore?" He used to sleep with me when I was scared, Lily said with the devastating honesty of a six-year-old. But Daddy says I'm brave now, so he doesn't need to stay. Victoria looked at the giraffe for a moment. Something passed through her face that Marcus couldn't read from across the room.
"Can I borrow him?" Victoria said, "Just for a little while." Lily considered this. "You can keep him," she said finally. "He likes having a job." Victoria stood. She set Gerald carefully on the shelf between the books.
She didn't say anything else, but when she turned back to unpacking, Marcus could see just barely that her jaw was tight in the way that meant she was holding something in. He said nothing. He went back to the kitchen. He made coffee.
That was the first night. The first week had rules, unspoken ones, but rules. Victoria left before he was up. She came back after he'd put Lily to bed.
She made no noise. She left no dishes. She communicated entirely by text message, even when she was 20 ft away on the other side of a wall. Out of milk.
If you're shopping, will replace. Hallway light is out. Bulb is the 60W kind. Working late.
Don't wait up. Marcus read the last one at 11:15 on a Thursday and thought with a dry humor he didn't share with anyone I wasn't planning to. But he had still been awake. He told himself it was because he was finishing a design project, which was true.
It was also true that he'd heard her key in the lock at 11:42 and only then closed his laptop. The crack happened on a Friday. Marcus was at the kitchen table working when the door opened and Victoria walked in, blazer off, which was new, and that invisible wall of certainty she carried everywhere with her, was thinner, like something had been pressing against it all day, and she'd spent the commute home holding it up by sheer will. She went straight to the kitchen, got a glass of water, drank half of it standing at the sink.
Marcus kept his eyes on his screen. Bad day, he said. Fine. Automatic.
Hollow. He let it sit. She drank the rest of the water, put the glass down, and then surprising them both. I lost a contract today.
15 months of work. They said the market shifted. She said it with the same flat tone she used for everything. But there was something underneath it, a tremor she was refusing to acknowledge.
I'm sorry, Marcus said. I don't need sympathy. I know. I'm saying it anyway.
He looked up at her. Did you eat? She blinked. The question clearly wasn't what she'd expected.
I know. There's chili on the stove. Lily made me put too much corn in it. Fair warning.
A pause. Lily made chili. Lily poured half a can of corn into chili I was already making and declared herself a chef. So, it's both of ours technically.
Victoria stood there for a moment. Then she moved to the stove, lifted the lid, looked at the chili, which was indeed aggressively corned, and got a bowl from the cabinet. She sat down at the table, not across from him. One seat over, she ate, he worked.
Nobody said anything for a while. Do you always work this late? She asked eventually. Freelance doesn't have office hours.
What kind of design, branding, logo work, marketing packages? He turned his laptop slightly so she could see the screen. A color concept for a restaurant chain. Clean lines, warm tones.
This one's for a family restaurant outside of Decatur. They want to feel approachable, but not cheap. Victoria looked at it, actually looked. The gold's too sharp, she said.
If they want warmth, go amber. Gold reads as aspirational. Amber reads as comfort. Marcus stared at the screen, then at her.