Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“I’m working tonight, and before that I’m planning to be completely useless and unproductive. What about you?”
“Marcus and I are going to begin stripping and refinishing all the wood floors on the second story.”
“Don’t you wealthy homeowner types have people for that?”
“We wanted to do it ourselves. There’s something really satisfying about putting in the time and effort and seeing our home come together.”
“That’s adorable,” I said. “I would have hired someone, though. It all sounds perfectly romantic, wanting to feather your nest together and all of that. But in reality, getting up close and personal with a power sander will probably prove to be a big nope.”
“I guess we’ll find out.” Romy pulled up to a stoplight and glanced at me. “So, do you think that hot businessman you’ve had your eye on will come into the restaurant tonight?”
“I hope so. My shifts are so much more interesting when he’s there.”
“Even though you haven’t had an actual conversation, beyond him ordering dinner and you asking how his food is?”
“Yeah, and I really don’t know what he’s waiting for. He’s been coming in for about three weeks now, and it’s obvious he’s interested in me. But he’s not doing anything about it.”
“Couldn’t you do something about it? Slip him your number or something?”
I shook my head. “I want him to take charge. I think that’s what he would want, too. He’s one of those captain of industry types, a man who’s clearly used to being the boss. If he wants to make a move, he’ll do it.”
“Well, maybe tonight’s the night.”
“We shall see.”
A few minutes later, he pulled to the curb in front of my house, and I asked, “Want to come inside and have some coffee before you plunge into DIY hell?”
“Thanks for the offer, but Marcus is expecting me.”
He offered to hang on to both boards until our next class, so I grabbed my beach towel and said, “Thanks for the ride,” before stepping out onto the sidewalk.
I loved the fact that I lived in the most colorful house on the block. The Victorian was a vibrant shade of pink, with rainbow curtains in all the windows and a big Pride flag flying above the front porch. To top it off, two of my housemates had lined the porch and stairs with colorful ceramic pots overflowing with flowers. It really was the most cheerful place I’d ever lived, inside and out.
When I stepped into the foyer, my housemate Lark called, “Hi, Timothy! How was your surfing lesson?”
I went into the living room and found him on the plum-colored couch with his laptop. Lark’s dark hair was pulled up in a stubby ponytail near the top of his head, and he was dressed in unicorn pajamas. This was all pretty typical.
“Amazing. I almost caught a monster wave, and I saw a fish.”
His big, brown eyes lit up as he exclaimed, “Cool! What kind of fish was it?” Somehow, I just knew he’d be impressed by the fish above all else.
“No idea. It just looked like your basic fish-shaped fish. He and I were caught up in the same wave. I was underwater and didn’t know which way was up for a minute, and then I spotted this confused-looking fish. Maybe he didn’t know which way was up, either.”
Lark raised a brow. “You had your eyes open under water?”
“That was the only way to find the surface.”
“So, are you liking the whole surfing thing, or was it a gigantic mistake?”
“I like it a lot. My back’s not so sure, though. I’m going to take a hot shower and see if that makes it feel better.”
“Okay, but will you come back afterwards? Everyone’s gone, and I could use some company.”
“Sure. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
In all, seven people lived in the pink Victorian. Our landladies, Yolanda and JoJo, shared a bedroom on the ground floor, and the rest of us were divided among four bedrooms upstairs.
The only real drawback was that there was only one bathroom on the second floor, but since just about everyone was out, I didn’t have to worry about spending a few extra minutes in the shower. I hoped it would soothe my aching back, but it still didn’t feel great when I got out.
Because of that, I decided to streamline my routine. Instead of blowing out my curls like I usually did on workdays, I ran some styling cream through them and glanced in the mirror. My hair was short on the sides and in back, but there was some length on top, so I definitely looked like a poodle. It would have to do, though.
Next, I tried to do something about my bloodshot eyes, because I didn’t want to look stoned when I went to work. After finding a bottle of eyedrops, I spent the next couple of minutes totally failing to get some into my eyes. Every time I tried, my lids slammed shut like the door to a vault. After wasting half the bottle, I washed the drops off my face and went to get dressed.