Not You It's Me (Boston Love #1) - Julie Johnson Page 0,119
of a tall, muscular, bald man who looks a little like Bruce Willis.
“We’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes, ma’am.” He nods courteously and continues stacking boxes. “Just a couple more of these to unload.”
“Okay?” My eyes drift around the apartment, searching for Chase, but he’s nowhere to be found. Instead, they catch on one of the boxes. Because peeking out the top, I see something I recognize. Something I thought I’d never see again.
A square throw pillow, with a red and blue peacock-feather design.
The same one that used to sit on top of my bed.
But that’s impossible.
Unless…
I force myself to stay calm as I take slow steps across the room, my eyes locked on the boxes like they contain something hazardous, that’ll kill me if I get too close. Like nuclear waste. Or a biochemical weapon.
Unfortunately, it’s much, much worse than that.
Because, when I get close enough, I see it is my peacock pillow. And it’s sitting on a stack of books I recognize from my destroyed shelves, their covers tattered but still in place. I barely breathe as my hands tear through box after box, unearthing more of my belongings — a set of knives, my blender, a paint-splattered pair of jeans, some underwear, my makeup bag, a jewelry box, some candles, a vase.
The only scraps that escaped Ralph’s ransacking.
I whirl to face the mover-men, hands planted on my hips. The bald man catches my eyes, startling at the scary expression on my face. The other two get one look at me and wisely board the elevator to escape my wrath.
“What are you doing?” I snap at the bald man, as the elevator slides closed.
“Just…” He looks nervous. “Just my job, ma’am.”
I sigh and try to make my voice less shrill. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. I just need to know who told you to bring these boxes here?”
“Well… Mr. Croft.” He swallows. “His instructions were real clear — package up whatever was salvageable at a crappy little apartment over in Cambridge, trash the rest. Then, he said to bring the boxes here, wait for a scary looking fella named Knox to let us in through the service entrance, and unload ‘em here, in the penthouse.”
“Yes, that was my crappy apartment, you were at.”
He has the grace to blush. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right.” I sigh. “But this is my stuff! Why on earth would he have you bring it here?”
“Don’t know anything ‘bout that.” He scratches his beard. “People pay me to move things, I move ‘em. Not my job to ask a lot of questions.”
I sigh again. “Well, there’s been a mix-up. Can you please bring all this back to my apartment? I’ll make sure you’re paid for your time.”
He starts to shift from foot to foot, looking uncomfortable. “Don’t think that’ll be possible.”
“Why not?” My eyes narrow. “I assure you, this is my stuff.”
“I’m sure it is, ma’am.” He eyes the elevator, as though he’d like nothing better than to make a quick exit. “It’s just…”
“What?”
“Well, the landlord was there, when we were clearing out your place, and he was real insistent we had to be finished by the end of the day. Said the lease was ending, and he had to get the renovators in ASAP, seeing as he has a new tenant moving in, and all.”
“He said what?!”
“Look, I have to be going.” He starts to edge toward the elevator. “I’m real sorry for any inconvenience, but I hope you’ll find everything in order. And next time you’re moving, please think of us.”
“Wait!” I call, as he crosses to the elevator and pushes the call button. “Don’t I have to sign anything?”
The doors slide open and he steps inside. “That Knox fella signed on delivery, ma’am. Have a nice day, now!”
And then, he’s gone, leaving me in the middle of Chase’s apartment, surrounded by six cardboard boxes that contain the sum total of my earthly belongings.
What.
The.
Hell.
***
“I’m going to kill him.”
“Babe.”
“Seriously.” I pull a candlestick out of the box closest to me and sneer at it. “He’s dead.”
“Babe.”
“Don’t babe me, Knox.”
“You’re freaking out.”
I whirl to face him, candlestick still in hand, and point it at him like a sword. “Yes, I’m freaking out. My boyfriend — who, frankly, only became my boyfriend about thirty seconds ago — gave up the lease to my apartment. Oh, and then he moved me into his apartment without even asking me! If anyone has cause to freak out, it’s me, Knox! The girl with the domineering,