Chapter 13Rose
Chapter 13
Rose
M y gratefulness had a short shelf life.
It was Saturday morning, a week-plus later, and I was back in the roastery space, arguing in heated whispers with Rafe.
Whispers, because one of the kids was over at the worktable weighing and packing coffee blends into our custom bags.
Rafe and I faced each other in a furious standoff. He demanded that he pay rent for the apartment. I refused to accept any money since he was doing me a favor by staying close to me.
Plus, he was only going to camp there for a couple of months, three at the outside, before he took off for his next job. Wherever that would be.
Of course, Rafe didn’t see it that way. In fact, he seemed a little insulted—not my intent at all—by the implication that he’d expect to stay for free in exchange for helping me out.
How could I tell?
He stood all tense, towering over me, with his arms crossed, biceps flexed, corded and veiny forearms on display, staring me down.
Now mind you, I wasn’t intimidated. But I was a little distracted there for a moment by all the muscly gloriousness that was Rafe. I came out of my trance and met his glare head-on.
“Okay, okay,” I hissed. “If you insist on making a deal out of this, I will allow you” — he growled —“Er, rather, ask you to pay some rent. Let’s say five hundred bucks per month.”
I slid my eyes to the left. Rookie mistake.
Rafe barked out a laugh. It was so loud that the kid at the worktable jumped and jerked his head around.
“I don’t think so. I talked to your girl Jennifer yesterday.”
Uh-oh.
He pulled out a wad of what looked to be one-hundred-dollar bills rubber-banded together. He reached over and tucked it into the pocket of my Chocolate Lab apron before I could do anything.
“Yeah. No,” he grumbled. “She said that the going rate for a one-bedroom apartment in this part of Portland is at least fifteen hundred a month. So here’s thirty-five hundred for the rest of September, October and November. I’ll get you the rent for December when I know my schedule.”
My jaw must have dropped, because the next thing I knew, Rafe used two fingers under my chin to gently close my mouth.
When I tried to take the cash out of my pocket to give it back to him, he rested his hand on mine. “Rose. Please. You will be making me feel better if you take this. I always pay my own way.”
What could I say to that? I totally understood. My family members, from my grandparents down to Finn, had always worked hard for everything we’d gotten. We did not believe in free rides.
Plus, Rafe—unlike some dog butts I could name in my life—had shown up and stuck around when I’d needed help. He hadn’t run off when the going got tough.
In my book, that alone deserved a lot of gratitude…and a little treat.
So I stepped back, clapped my hands and said, “Thank you, Rafe. Happy that’s all settled.”
He looked puzzled at my sudden amiability. Before he could say anything, I went on to inform him, “Now you are going to make me feel even better by accepting my invite to Sunday supper tomorrow. I’m making my grandma’s Swedish meatballs on mashies. You’ll love ’em!”
Rafe stopped looking puzzled and smiled instead. “Are you always this bossy?”
I probably should have paused there, but Rafe had to know. “Oh, no. Usually I’m pretty easygoing.”
Did I hear a snort?
“You’re getting the friends-and-family special.”
Before he asked which am I? I twirled smartly around to head down the hallway to the café.