Been There Done That (Leffersbee #1) - Hope Ellis Page 0,14
mode. And then you said, ‘What the hell? I have some wrinkled-ass pants and shirts here and a shitty couch to sleep on. I’ll just stay here ’til it’s done.’ Even though we all keep asking you not to do that.”
I released a sigh and slid onto the stool at the counter opposite her. It seemed the day from hell would never end. The last thing I needed was to rouse the irritation of my best friend and my slightly overbearing older brother.
“I’m sorry, Leigh.”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but you are not going to age me prematurely. Not happening.”
I bit back a smile at the defiant tilt to her head. Leigh still looked eighteen rather than thirty. Her posture was aggressively erect and she moved like the graceful dance major she’d been when I’d met her as a transferring undergraduate student at Northwestern. She’d ultimately decided against dancing professionally, but she’d retained all the discipline and healthy habits that kept her lithe and lean. The tiny shorts and tank top screen-printed with the name of a local Knoxville band displayed the figure of someone who had an unhealthy—and therefore very healthy—obsession with working out. Her dark, shoulder-length hair shone from the hair spray that stiffened her roots at optimal elevation. Wide, blue eyes narrowed as she stepped closer.
“I’m glad you’re alright, but do me a favor, okay? Invest in some decent self-care. Nothing else will matter if you’re dead. I have to tell you that over and over, and you’re supposed to be the brilliant researcher.”
I shook my head, unable to tear my gaze from the faded Formica countertop. “Today was bad, Leigh.”
She picked up a yipping Felicia and settled on a stool opposite me. Felicia stared at me from her perch in Leigh’s lap with big, wet eyes. “How is it different from the usual suckitude? What happened?”
“Hello! Man on the premises!” The deep baritone boomed the announcement from the front door, accompanied by the triple chirp of the alarm. “Anyone within the sound of my voice should be fully clothed.”
I closed my eyes. “Is there anyone I didn’t give my key to?”
A small smile tugged at one corner of Leigh’s mouth. “He’s still scarred from that time he used his key without knocking.”
“Why would we have had clothes on in the dead heat of summer, when it was hot as an oven?”
“Because,” a familiar voice said from behind me, “civilized people turn on the AC and walk around with their clothes on.”
I shook my head at my brother. His quiet brown eyes reflected a solemnity that belied his jocular tone. His gaze moved over me in an all-encompassing sweep. Gone was the crisp suit, his usual uniform as vice president of our family’s bank. Instead, he wore a pair of jeans and an old white T-shirt. He set the toolbox and bucket on the floor.
“I don’t have air conditioning. You know that.”
He folded his arms. “Uh-huh. I also know the plan was not for you to still be in this house. This was supposed to be a revenue-generating property, remember? Dad told you to buy it, renovate it, sell it or rent it out. Instead, you’re still here dealing with the same repairs that apparently haven’t been fixed. And living with your eternal roommate.”
I didn’t miss the way his gaze moved over to Leigh and lingered on her bare legs before rising and resting on her face.
I slid down on the stool, weighted from the impact of yet another failure landing on my shoulders. He was right. I’d had every intention of renovating and unloading this house at first sight. My father had pushed, as was his way, enumerating all the reasons why it was a good investment. Fresh off a postdoc and facing the frightening prospect of moving back to Green Valley, I’d thought it couldn’t be the worst thing that happened to me, all things considered. Even if the ancient, shadowy house looked like it hosted untold deaths from murder, plague, and consumption.
But sometime between signing the sale papers and exploring the house’s large, open rooms with their creaking original wood floors, I’d deviated from my clearly-outlined plan.
Within a few months, I was in love with the house’s eccentricities and its little surprises, like the distinctive crown molding patterns and original, untouched woodwork. So when the hospital had an opening for a Child Life Specialist, I sent the job requisition to my best friend, who just happened to be desperate for a