for a change of clothes and some time to figure out what the hell I'd be doing next.
But instead of finding peace and quiet, I'd found Chase in my kitchen, drinking the last of my orange juice straight from the carton.
In the kitchen doorway, I'd stopped short at the sight of him. "What are you doing?"
"Drinking juice," he'd said, like it should be obvious. "What are you doing?"
"I just got back from California." Eyeing the carton in his hand, I'd asked, "And don't you have juice of your own?"
"Sure," he'd said, "but I've also got a guest, and she won't stop talking." With his free hand, he'd made yapping motions in the air. "Shit," he'd said with a laugh, "I thought she'd never shut up." But then, he'd frowned. "What's wrong with you?"
And like a dumb-ass, I'd actually told him. Even dumber, I'd asked for his opinion on why Arden had gone off the deep end.
And this is when he'd informed me that Arden was – in his words – playing me.
Fast forward to now. I told Chase, "You don't know that."
"Sure I do," he said. "You said she's nuts about the house, right?"
Oh, yeah. She was nuts, and not just about the house.
I'd been thinking that for years, until she'd shown me a different side, a side that I couldn’t get enough of, a side that, even now, I missed more than I should.
With a shrug, I replied, "Yeah, so?"
"So hey, you've got to give her credit for trying."
I frowned. "Trying what?"
"To get you thinking with your dick, and not the brain upstairs."
Shit.
All week, I'd been toying with the same theory – not liking it, but not willing to let it go either.
But I should've seen the signs.
After all, Arden wasn't the first girl to try such a stunt. For years, I'd been dealing with chicks pretending to be this or that. A few of them had worked it pretty hard, too, trying to convince me that they were "the one."
They weren't.
And the way it looked, neither was Arden, even if I'd been thinking just the opposite.
But I had to face facts. Chase was right, even if it wasn't what I wanted to hear.
With a scoff, I considered how Arden had been acting until just recently. And I did mean acting.
Nuts or not, she'd put on one hell of a show. When I considered all of the hours she'd spent looking at floor plans, paint samples, kitchen layouts, and shit-knows-what-else, I wanted to kick myself for not seeing through the act.
Good thing she couldn't keep it up.
If she'd been just a little more patient, I would've given her more than the house – and counted myself a lucky guy.
I wasn't feeling so lucky now.
In the kitchen, Chase said, "Aw come on. Girls are like busses, right?"
I was only half listening. "What?"
"Another one will roll up any minute." He glanced toward my condo's main door. "Hey, you want the rest of mine?"
I wasn't following. "Your what?"
"My date."
I gave him a look. "No."
"You sure?" He grinned. "She's hot and ready."
Chase and I never shared. I saw his twisted offer for what it was, an attempt to distract me from my own sorry mood.
I loved him for it, but that didn't mean it was working. The way I felt now, it would take more than a crude joke to make me laugh.
When my only reply was a tight smile, he added, "If you act now, I'll throw in a muzzle."
I didn't get it. "A muzzle?"
"Or ear-plugs," he said. "Like I said, she's a real yapper."
It was typical Chase.
He was full of shit, and we both knew it. I replied, "I'll pass, thanks."
"Eh, smart move," he said. "Get this. I'm supposed to be picking up breakfast."
I glanced toward the kitchen cupboard behind him. "I think there's cereal on the top shelf."
"Not anymore," he said. "I ate that on Wednesday."
I didn't get it. Chase had a shopping service, a maid, and plenty of women dying to cook for him. But what was he doing? Eating my cereal and drinking my juice.
But hey, to each his own.
It's not like I missed whatever he was taking. I had plenty of money and a shopping service of my own. I'd only been stopping by the condo a few times a week anyway – mostly to swap out clothes and pick up the mail.
And besides, it wasn't juice I wanted now. It was something with a lot more kick.
I was still mulling that over when Chase's phone chirped