Roughing It With Ryan Read online

  “Open until 11:00 every night,” Taylor confirmed. “You just keep that in mind now, as you look at the bathroom.”

  The bathroom was the size of a postage stamp. No tub, Suzanne thought with a sigh, but it had all the basics—a shower, a sink and a commode.

  “Everything’s in working order,” Taylor promised. “That is if you don’t try to make toast and use a hair dryer at the same time. And hey, with a good scrubbing, the place might even be cute. What do you think?”

  “I think if the price is right, I’ll take it.”

  “The price is right,” Taylor promised. “Come with me downstairs, I have the forms. When would you move in?”

  Suzanne thought of her belongings all wedged into her car. “I hope now is good.”

  Taylor laughed. “If you have first and last month’s rent, plus a small security deposit, now is perfect.”

  Damn. “Uh…how attached to the security deposit idea are you?”

  Nicole stopped and looked her over. “Hurting for cash?”

  “You could say that.” Tim had let her purchase his very expensive bedroom furniture with her savings several weeks ago. Furniture he now claimed had been her gift to him. Gift, ha! She could have fed a small country for a year on what she’d paid. Odd how mad that made her now, when she’d so happily given him everything only a month ago. “But I do have a job,” she said positively, which was true. “Will that help?”

  “Yes, a job is good.” Taylor thought it over. “We can skip the deposit.”

  They started down the stairs again, Taylor in her fancy wear, looking like royalty visiting the slums, and Suzanne with her gypsy dress, fitting right into her immediate surroundings.

  “What is it that you do?” Taylor asked.

  “I’m a chef at Café Meridian.” As Suzanne mentioned the café only about five blocks from this very spot, a flicker of unease rolled over her shoulders. She’d moved up from a less esteemed kitchen when Tim’s sister had purchased the place and Tim had insisted Suzanne would love working for his sister.

  Now that they had broken up, Suzanne hoped it wouldn’t be awkward to continue working there. Though she’d taken less money than she’d wanted to, she loved the job.

  Okay, so she loved food. Period. But she needed the job. Without it, she’d have to rely on her catering, which was simply a hobby and would stay that way. Running a business would be…well, too regimented. Far too regimented.

  Sorry, Mom.

  Carters in general—meaning her and her dad—didn’t do serious. Which was why her mother couldn’t talk to either of them without her jaw getting all bunched up. Her father was still a struggling stand-up comedian at nearly sixty years of age. On the outside it looked like he was a slacker left over from an age when that was a good thing, but the truth was, he loved his carefree life. Material possessions and corporate success meant less to him than his freedom.

  Suzanne, according to her mother, was a chip off the old block.

  She and Taylor came to the second floor landing, where Taylor unlocked one of the two apartments, then gestured for Suzanne to enter. “This is my place.”

  Suzanne stood in the empty living room not so different from the one on the floor above, except this place had been cleaned spotless. “But it’s…empty.”

  “I’ve just moved in myself, and into the bedroom only. The rest is a job for this week.”

  “You own the building?”

  Taylor slid a very tasteful beige pump, which probably cost more than Suzanne’s entire wardrobe, over the smooth floor. “I do now.”

  “Pardon my frankness, but you’re dressed to the nines, dripping elegance and sophistication, and yet I have the strangest feeling that you don’t have any more money than I do.”

  Taylor sighed and rolled her head on her neck. “What gave me away? The not wanting to put money into the trees?”

  “Let’s just say desperation recognizes desperation.”

  Taylor laughed. “You know what? I like you. Okay, here’s the humiliating truth. I grew up with the proverbial silver spoon in my mouth—the best of schools, the whole works. College at Brown University, courtesy of Great-Grandpa’s Swiss bank account. After graduation, I traveled Europe for fun.”

  “Also on Grandpa’s Swiss bank account?” Suzanne guessed, and when Taylor nodded, she shook her head. “I’m not feeling sorry for you yet.”

  “I know, we’re getting to that.” Taylor lifted her hands in a surrendering gesture. “I was spoiled rotten, I admit it. I never worked a day in my life, never worried about money, nothing. Then Grandpa, who I only saw every few years when he felt the need to see firsthand how his money was paying off, up and died on me.”

  “How inconsiderate,” Suzanne murmured.

  “But he left me this building.”

  “It’s prime real estate. It’s got to be worth a for tune.”

  “Yeah, if you have a fortune to spend on it.” Taylor grimaced. “He didn’t leave me any money to go with it, not one single dime. I’ve never had to save money and I don’t have a job so I’m flat broke.”

  “Except for this building.”

  “Except for this building,” she agreed. “Obviously I need tenants, as I’ve found I’m rather fond of eating.

  I figure I can get cash flow from the rentals. And as it all starts to come in, I promise to fix the place up. If you want to help, I’ll give you a break on the rent. So…still want the loft?”

  Suzanne might have grown up with her comedian father, who thought everything was a joke, but she did have a brain. “Why not just sell and pocket the dough?”

  Taylor vehemently shook her head. Not a single hair fell out of place. “Cave on my first real challenge? No way.”

  Suzanne felt herself let loose a genuine smile—her first since finding her belongings stacked in the hall and the locks changed. “You know, I think I like you back.”

  Taylor’s return smile came slow and easy. “Good.” There seemed to be relief in that smile. “Here are the rental forms. Just you, right?”

  “Just me. Single forever, from this point on.”

  “Ah. Something else we have in common.”

  “I mean it. I’m…” What the hell. “I am relationship cursed.”

  Taylor laughed, then when Suzanne didn’t, her laughter faded. “You’re…not kidding.”

  “Not on this, believe me.” She lifted a hand and made a solemn vow. “No matter what the temptation, I shall resist.”

  “I’m with you. No matter the temptation,” Taylor agreed just as solemnly. “Even temptation in the form of a magnificent tree man with an ass that makes my knees weak.”

  Suzanne’s lips twitched. “Even that.” She signed on the dotted line.

  “To us,” the pretty blonde said, lifting an imaginary toast. “And a prosperous future all on our own. No men. Soon as I can afford it, I’ll buy real champagne to toast with.”

  “To us,” Suzanne agreed with a smile. “Good luck, Taylor.”

  “And to you, Suzanne.”

  Suzanne raised both her imaginary glass and her gaze to the ceiling, picturing her loft above.

  Luck? She, for one, was going to need it.

  2

  RYAN ALONDO stood in his shower, head bent as the hot water beat down on his back. His hands braced on the wall kept his exhausted body vertical because he wasn’t certain he could trust himself not to fall asleep right there on his feet. He stood that way until the hot water gave out and he turned off the flow of water.

  And then found not a single towel in sight. “Angel!”

  “I know, I know, I took the last clean towel.” A giggle followed from just outside the bathroom door. “Sorry.”

  Great, she was sorry and he was bare ass naked. And cold.

  Outside the small beveled window of the bathroom came the sounds of a whipping wind. A storm was definitely brewing but he was too tired to think about what that might mean to the countless property owners who had disregarded his recommendat