Page 40 of Reluctantly Yours

I move toward the kitchen area.

“This is where you live?” I ask, examining the hot plate, before opening the cabinet above the counter. A variety of brightly colored mugs and a mismatch of plates and bowls are on one side, while a few box dinners and miscellaneous pantry items are on the other.

“Would you like a tour?” Chloe can’t help but laugh at her own joke. “It’s supposed to be funny, because you don’t need a tour to see all of my stuff. It’s all within arm’s reach.”

I don’t find this funny at all.

“I can tell you’re excited. You’re thinking ‘wow, look at all the deeply personal items I can peruse through to get to know my fake girlfriend better.’”

I look around again. There is a stack of books by her bed. Instead of a closet, there’s a clothing rack affixed to the wall with garment bags on hangers.

I push one aside to see the label on the front.

“What’s Threads?”

“It’s a wardrobe service. You pay a monthly fee and they send you outfits for the week. You return them when you’re done and they send more. I figured since I don’t have much room for clothes or a budget it made the most sense. Also, it’s eco-friendly. I feel better about not purchasing so many clothes and they have really cute designer stuff that I wouldn’t be able to afford anyway. I’ve been telling everyone about it. I think if we all did something like this it would really help cut down on fashion waste in our landfills.”

It occurs to me; I haven’t seen Chloe in the same outfit twice. It’s a shame that pink skirt she wore on Monday isn’t hers. I’ve been thinking about it all week. My hands fisting the bubblegum pink material to push it up around her hips and explore what’s underneath.

I shake the thought loose.

“All your clothes are from this service?”

“Not my underwear or pajamas.” She moves to the dresser and pulls open a drawer. “See?”

I’ll admit I’m interested in Chloe’s underwear, but now isn’t the time.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I ask.

“Down the hall, to the right.” She makes a face. “Oh, technically Todd has it booked for shower time from five to six, he’s a nightshift worker, but if you need to use it you could probably just slip in quick. Todd’s super nice. He’s my neighbor. Doesn’t get out much so sometimes when our schedules align, we have wine night in the hallway and play gin rummy.”

I’m completely caught off guard by the bathroom situation, I can’t even rib her for her lackluster social life.

“You share a bathroom? With a guy?” I have a hard time keeping the irritation out of my voice.

“Yeah.” Chloe lets out an exasperated sigh. “It’s not like we’re in there at the same time. And we’ve established ground rules. Like no peeing in the shower or other bodily substances,” she makes a jerking off hand gesture, “I’m sure you’re familiar. And I do my best to not get hair in the sink. Todd had a huge problem with the man that lived here before me. I guess he would brush his wigs over the sink and the whole sewer system backed up.” She pauses to take a breath. “Anyway, it’s nothing compared to sharing with three younger sisters. That was a horrific experience.”

The bulb flickers above our heads.

“What was that?” I ask.

“Nothing.” Chloe feigns innocence, but I know that can’t be the first time that’s happened.

I take another look around. Even if I had the door fixed, added in a security panel for the building downstairs, and hired someone to deep clean the bathroom weekly, none of that would give me peace of mind.

“You can’t stay here,” I say.

“What do you mean? I live here. I’ve been living here for two years.”

“Because I didn’t know,” I mutter, checking out the loose wire coming from the corner of the ceiling.

“I appreciate your concern but I’m good here. It fits my budget.”

A door slams above us and tiny pieces of loose brick from the wall sprinkle onto Chloe’s hardwood floor. My eyes take in the tiny chips of brick and then my gaze lifts to hers. She grabs her hand broom and dustpan to quickly clean up the debris.

“It doesn’t feel safe. You couldn’t even get out that window if there was a fire. And that’s saying something.”

“Ah, small person jokes. You’re hilarious.”