Free Lust, Loathing and a Little Lip Gloss by Kyra Davis Page B

until the end of next month. Why didn’t you take a little at a time?”
    “I don’t know, anxious to get started, I guess.”
    “Yes, you were quick to pack,” Anatoly acknowledged, taking in the scene. “It’s the unpacking that seems to have slowed you down.” He threw his jacket over one of the boxes and then found his way to an empty chair. “Is that because this isn’t your place yet?”
    “Don’t be ridiculous, of course it’s my place. I signed the papers.”
    “For an escrow that won’t go through for another week, if at all. If you ask me, $20,000 is worth showing your new residence a lot of disrespect.”
    “But I’m getting the house for hundreds of thousands of dollars below market, so it’s not like six of one, half dozen of the other,” I pointed out.
    “Has Kane even transferred the utilities over to you yet?”
    I swallowed and looked away. “He’s insisting on paying them until escrow goes through, but that doesn’t mean…”
    “Sophie, you’re practically squatting.”
    “Are you purposely trying to piss me off or do you really not get it?” I snapped. “I don’t want his $20,000. This is my house! I have always wanted to live here and now I finally do!”
    “‘Always?’” Anatoly repeated. “‘Finally?’ Sophie you first saw this place five weeks ago.”
    “Seven,” I said stubbornly, but I did see his point. Why did it feel like I had been fighting for this place for years? And why was I jumping all over Anatoly for pointing out the obvious? I did some quick calculations in my head, but that didn’t give me an explanation for my temper tantrum; I wasn’t due to get my period for another two weeks.
    Anatoly considered me for a moment then lowered his gaze to the wine bottle as he shifted it from hand to hand. Something was bothering him, but instead of opening up he said, “So tell me, Sophie, how was the freak show?”
    “What?” I asked, not following him at first. “Oh, the séance. Well, it was…weird—but I suppose weird’s normal for a freak show. You’re not going to believe this, but Jason Beck was there. He’s a bona fide member of the Specter Society.”
    Anatoly looked at me blankly. “Who’s Jason Beck?”
    “You remember Jason. One of Dena’s GBCs…you, know, Mr. Velvet Pants.”
    “Right.” Anatoly laughed appreciatively. “How could I forget him? And GBC stands for…?”
    “Glorified Booty Call.”
    “Right. It makes sense that he would be part of that group, he was crazy enough.” He looked back down at the wine. “Did Scott give you any trouble?”
    “No, he was fine. I still can’t believe he’s with Venus. I mean, yeah, she’s got money, but they’re such a mismatched couple. It’s like if Owen Wilson hooked up with Greta Van Susteren. It’s just strange.” Anatoly continued to study the wine bottle as if I hadn’t spoken. Something about his demeanor made me nervous. I took a few steps toward the window seat before changing my mind and converting one of the boxes closer to him into a temporary stool. “How was your stakeout?” I asked, grasping at the one question that I knew could get him talking again.
    “Boring,” he sighed. “My client hired me to see if her ex is using. There’s a custody thing going on and she’s looking for ammunition. But as far as I can tell all his vices are legal. Women, alcohol, that kind of stuff. Nothing that will cost him his visitation rights.”
    “It may be legal, but too much alcohol tends to hamper people’s ability to parent,” I pointed out. “That’s why I’ve chosen to remain childless.”
    He laughed and I immediately relaxed. “Speaking of which, why don’t you open that wine,” I suggested.
    “I can do that.” I waited as he went to fetch a corkscrew from the kitchen. My corkscrew and glasses were the first things I had unpacked. I had my priorities.
    “Wine for two,” he announced as he returned with a couple of filled glasses.
    I smiled gratefully.