“I’m sorry. Listen, there’s more. You got turned down because you don’t have a job. They found out about your business going up in smoke and didn’t think you could afford the rent while rebuilding your whole portfolio for the competition.”
“Damn! I can’t get a job right now. If I don’t deliver the designs for the final taping in three weeks, I’ll lose and then I really won’t be able to afford rent, or anything else. Will you please get to the part about the lottery? Or do you just have a very skewed version of good news?”
“Listen, listen!” Claudia was practically jumping up and down. “I knew you’d be bummed out, so I called my boss and asked if he could use a part-timer in exchange for the apartment over the bar. The waitress who left last fall moved in with her boyfriend. Well, he’s her husband now, but in any case, there’s a room for you, if you want it. He rents the apartment to his employees at a drastically reduced rate. He usually requires the person to be a full-timer, but I pleaded your case.”
“And he said yes?”
“Yes! Don’t you see? I solved all your problems. A part-time job gives you money to live on, time to work on your other project, a wicked cheap rent in an awesome place, and me as your manager. It’s a win-win-win-win.”
Bliss smirked. She wanted to tease her friend about having her as a boss… badly, but Claudia had done her a solid. She deserved better than a smart-ass remark.
“Thank you. I—um. I’ve never worked in a bar before. Does that bother you?”
“Hell, no. It’s easy. You’ll pick it up in no time.”
“Aren’t you worried about my so-called people skills?”
Claudia chuckled. “Not as soon as you realize that good service equals good tips. Now, do you want the job or not?”
“I want it! When can I move in?”
“Anytime. You’ll have a roommate. She’s the bartender, but it’s a two-bedroom apartment and quite roomy for the area. You won’t get in each other’s way at all.”
“Eww… a roommate. I don’t know, Claudie. It’s not that I don’t play well with others, it’s that so many others are jackholes.”
Claudia dropped her face into her hands, and Bliss thought she muttered, “Oh, crap. What have I done?” She lifted her face and glared. “Angie’s no jackhole, and we need her. If you can’t behave yourself, the deal’s off.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be good. Anything is better than living in my childhood bedroom while my mother demands I fill it with babies.”
Chapter 4
Bliss charged down the stairs and stopped briefly to say, “Get away from the window, Ma, or I won’t open the door.”
Her mother backed toward the kitchen, slowly.
Bliss could argue all day, but she’d have to give her parents a look at Drake or they’d think she was hiding some weird anomaly like crooked teeth or a big nose that could be passed on to their possible future grandchildren.
He knocked. Hoping for the best, Bliss opened the front door.
“Hi there, beautiful. It’s a great day to move.”
It was true. The sun shone in the clear blue sky, and the humidity was low. As an added bonus, Bliss hadn’t committed matricide yet.
“Come in, Drake.”
Mrs. Russo strolled over, and before she could berate her for not introducing them, Bliss said, “Drake, this is my mother, Malinda Russo.”
“What a beautiful name. It suits you,” he said.
Her mother tittered—actually tittered—and extended her hand. He shook it and held on for an extra moment. “I can see where Bliss gets her beauty.”
Good going, Drake. Now she’ll be adamant I make you her son-in-law. “There’s not much stuff to load into your truck. Just a few castoffs and a suitcase. We can be on our way in about fifteen minutes.”
“What’s the rush, Blissful? He just got here. He’s probably thirsty after the long drive.”
Crap. Now he knows what my stupid nickname is. “It’s not that long a drive, Ma, and I’m anxious to get going so I can settle in.”
“Oh, all right.” Her mother did the disappointed sigh better than a Jewish mother. “If you must, I guess you must.”
Bliss rolled her eyes so Drake could see her but her mom couldn’t.
“Maybe another time,” he said.
“Oh, yes. I’d love to have you over for Sunday dinner… as a thank-you for helping Blissy move. I make lasagna better than you’ll get in the city—including the North End.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Drake said, and gave Malinda Russo his killer grin.
Bliss thought her mother would faint.
“I’ll show you the basement. That’s where the old furniture is.”
“It’s not that old, Blissful.”
Bliss slapped her own forehead. “Will you please stop calling me by the nicknames I hate?”
Her mother looked hurt, then angry, and stomped out of the room, muttering, “Everyone thought they were cute when you were little.”
Damn. Now I’m the bad guy.
“Let’s get to that furniture,” Drake said. “It won’t move itself.”
Drake to the rescue… again. “Yes, let’s.”
She led him to the cellar door and they tromped down the stairs. Once they were in the basement he spun her toward him and said, “Don’t worry about your nickname. I get ‘blissy’ just looking at you.” Before she could protest, he kissed her.
She practically melted in his arms. When he released her, she grasped the back of the sleeper sofa to steady herself.
“Wow. You do that so well.”
He smiled and touched her cheek. “You’re pretty good at it yourself.” Pointing toward the sofa, he asked, “Is that going?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. That’ll be my bed until I get a real one. Then I’ll put it in the guest room.”
“You have a guest room?”
Bliss chuckled. “No, but that’s what my friends and I call the living room if guests come. I was sleeping in Claudia’s guest room last weekend.”
“Gotcha. I suppose I should have a ‘guest room.’” He made air quotes. “But I don’t have guests.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know if that was good news or bad. Did he make it a rule never to let anyone sleep over—or was he telling her she was his only girlfriend?
“I live in a studio for now. I had to find something quickly when I got to Boston, but I’ll be on the lookout for something bigger as soon as the lease is up.”
“Ah. That’s right.” She moved to one end of the couch. “Well, this thing is damn heavy. If we need more muscle, I can ask my dad to come down.”
“Nah, it shouldn’t be a problem.” Drake picked up the sofa in the middle and hoisted the whole thing over his head.
“Holy cow,” Bliss exclaimed. “How did you… I mean, whoa. Don’t give yourself a hernia. I can help.”
“No need. I’ve got it.”
Shit. I figured he was strong enough to carry people out of burning buildings, but lifting ridiculously heavy seventies furniture over his head? “I’ll guide you then.” She hurried to the end of the sofa that was closest to the stairs. “Follow my legs.”
“Gladly,” he said with a hint of mischief in his voice.
Drake unloaded the last of her belongings while Bliss kept an eye on his truck. She’d told him again how amazed she was by his strength. Maybe he should have played it low key. No need to make her suspicious if she wasn’t already, but he couldn’t help showing off a little bit.
She handed him the extra key to her apartment so he could park in a legal spot and then come up to her place. He gave her a peck on the lips before he got in—and noticed her look of surprise that quickly turned into a smile.