Free Red Hot by Niobia Bryant

woman standing before him were one and the same.
    â€œI have to get to work,” Quint said, ready to get out of her presence.
    â€œOkay,” she said, pressing a folded bill into his hand.
    Before she could turn away, he held her hand with the money sandwiched in between their palms. “I’m not a bellhop,” Quint told her, his voice hard and his eyes locked on hers.
    Kaitlyn wiggled her hand free. “I didn’t mean to offend you,” she said softly. “I was appreciative of your help.”
    Quint pushed the money into her hand. “Then just say ‘thank you,’ Kaitlyn.”
    â€œOkay. Thank you.”
    Quint turned and left the apartment, closing the door securely behind him.
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    Kaitlyn hurried over to the window and peeked through the slats of the wooden blinds. She eyed him before his body disappeared as he descended the stairs. The man hated her. Absolutely detested her. Why?
    She shrugged. All that fineness wasted on a rude asshole.
    She turned from the window and placed her hands on her hips as she circled the living room. When she moved into her old apartment, she’d hired an interior decorator to buy her furniture and accessories and set up the whole apartment—even her closet. By the time she slid her key into the lock, all she carried was her purse, and she was home, sweet home.
    Now?
    Kaitlyn sighed. The $10,000 cost for an interior decorator was so completely out of her budget. The cost for the moving company to pack up her old apartment, load the truck, and then unpack everything was high enough; and that had come from her little stash of emergency cash.
    That was back when my emergency was a trunk sale.
    Her cell phone rang and she raced over to where her bag sat on the windowsill. Her foot gave out from under her and twisted, sending her tumbling to the floor. She kicked off her heels in frustration and jumped up to her feet just as the phone stopped ringing.
    When she finally pulled the iPhone from the inside pocket, she saw it was her father’s cell phone number. She turned and pressed her ass against the windowsill as she looked down at the phone. She raised her thumb to call him back, but then she decided against it.
    She really missed her parents, but she had to make them regret their decision. Kaitlyn knew if she stuck to her guns, then guilt would send them running back and dying to keep her in the lifestyle to which she was accustomed.
    Right?
    But again she raised her thumb above the touchscreen keypad. It would be so easy to call him. So easy.
    Kaitlyn did swipe her thumb across the screen, but it was to pull up her photo gallery. She smiled at the picture of her parents on their front porch, laughing together. They loved each other. Anyone could see that. And they made sure their kids always felt loved and wanted.
    â€œUntil now,” Kaitlyn muttered, closing the photo.
    She went back to the guest bedroom and began unpacking those items she had carried with her. She hung them in the small closet, waiting until the moving truck arrived with the dozen waist-high rolling racks she had bought to line the walls of the room, turning it into a huge walk-in closet.
    Kaitlyn was pairing up her shoes, when she heard the metallic rumble of a truck. Barefoot, she padded out of her room and to the window to see her moving truck pulling into one of the empty parking spots. She dashed back into the guest room to slide her feet into a pair of flats before leaving the apartment. The door swung closed behind her.
    â€œShit,” Kaitlyn swore, trying the knob and finding it locked. For a moment she let her forehead lightly drop against the door before she went down the stairs.
    â€œI’ll be right with you, fellas,” she told the burly movers as they raised the tailgate of the truck.
    Kaitlyn knocked on Quint’s door and then knocked again. The door suddenly opened and he was standing there in low-slung khakis as he pulled on a