Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
She was pissed, but she was trying to cover it up. I watched her closely, and not one time did she look in my direction. It was as if I were fucking invisible. She was mad because I had said she wasn’t my type. I continued to observe her as she walked Mrs. Jo to her wet apartment, and the firemen arrived through the doors leading to the stairs. I had them to deal with now, but I’d get back to the sexy, angry Brielle later.
six
brielle
“I have no interest in Brielle. She isn’t my type.”
I scowled as the words replayed in my head. I had tried to not care about them. It wasn’t as if I wanted to be his type. Dean Finlay was not my type. For starters, he was old. As if I wanted a man that age. Maybe, once, when I had been a silly teenager with a crush, his age hadn’t mattered. But now, I was a grown woman with good sense, and he wasn’t my type!
I glared at the sight of my wet apartment, and I groaned. This was a mess. I was lucky that the sprinklers hadn’t gone off in every room. Just the ones that shared a wall with Mrs. Jo’s apartment. Which included the living room and my bedroom. Cam’s bedroom was dry, and his drums were safe. That was the biggest relief. I had renters insurance, but it was a basic plan. I didn’t think the drums would be covered in it. I’d spent months working nights, delivering groceries after a full day at the college, to pay for Cam’s used drum set. But the joy on his face Christmas morning had made every single exhausted moment worth it.
A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts, and I turned to open it. Anything to distract me from my current situation. An attractive blonde woman stood on the other side with an iPad in her hands, smiling at me. Before either of us could say anything, Dean appeared behind her.
“Brielle, this is Maegan. She’s the building manager, and she needs to come assess the water damage in your apartment,” Dean said.
I glanced back at my apartment. “I have renters insurance,” I said, not sure why she needed to assess my damage.
“You won’t need to file a claim with your insurance. This is not your fault, and the building’s insurance will cover it,” Dean informed me.
I was relieved. I hated that he had said something that eased my worries. I didn’t want any help from Dean, but he did own this building, and if he wanted this to be covered by the building’s insurance, I wasn’t petty enough to argue. He might not be my type, but he was my landlord.
Fate had a way of twisting life up in ways you never expected. Screw fate and its bad sense of humor.
“Okay,” I replied, stepping back for Maegan to enter. Thankfully, Dean didn’t follow her.
“Do I need to stay or wait outside?” I asked her.
“You do what you’re comfortable with. I just want to make sure I get all the damage noted so that everything is covered,” she said.
I debated on standing over her while she worked, or maybe going to my wet bedroom, or getting out of her way. I didn’t think my things were in any danger of being stolen.
Making a quick decision, I moved toward the door. “I’ll just get out of your way. If you need me, I’ll be right out here.”
“Excellent,” she replied.
When I turned, my eyes locked with Dean’s, and I realized I had made a hasty decision. My wet bedroom would have been a better place to wait this out. Or even Cam’s dry bedroom.
He was watching me closely. I jerked my gaze from his and looked out into the hallway as I walked past him. I hadn’t come out here to talk to him or discuss anything about the damage. Maegan looked capable of handling it herself. She was also a gorgeous blonde in her mid-thirties with lips so plump that they could not be natural and legs for miles. I had no doubt she was Dean’s type, and for now, her job was safe. Until he got bored with her.
“Everything,” he said, and I glanced back at him to see his focus on Maegan.
“Of course,” she replied.
I crossed my arms over my stomach and stared at the green walls that would soon be a light blue. They needed it now more than ever. The smoke had damaged the paint closest to Mrs. Jo’s apartment door. Most of her apartment would need a fresh coat of paint. I frowned, thinking about how long that would take and that she wouldn’t be back in her apartment for her birthday next week. I was going to make her a cake and get some party hats, horns, and sparkler candles to celebrate, like we did every year. Now, she wouldn’t be here.