Chapter 25
“New info came in,” said the text from Varen. “Next Aviary meeting is at Ravenwood’s house in the West Hills. This is going to be our big chance to find evidence. Hope you’re ready to put those sneaky skills to good use.”
Nala stared into her half-eaten bowl of oatmeal. I wish I had work today. As much as she liked a good day off to rest and recharge, she hated sitting around that crappy house. She couldn’t afford to go out and sit in a café for a while. The weather was too shitty to go to the park or for a hike.
Finally, she replied, oatmeal spoon in her other hand. “Sounds good. Tell me when.”
“Tomorrow.”
Oh, joy. Work and tearing up Ravenwood’s mansion. Where would Nala find the time?
“How are you doing? It’s been a couple of days.”
Ah, shit. Varen wasn’t getting clingy, was she?
Ever since Nala finally snuck out Friday night, she had been avoiding her.
I think I inspired her too much. When Nala told her to get over her shame for being human, she hadn’t anticipated Varen focusing romantic efforts on her.
What is a girl to do? A gorgeous, successful woman wanted her pussy 24/7.
In a perfect world, Nala would be counting her good fortune and calling her mom up to brag.
However, this wasn’t a perfect world. There were many barriers left between them, and besides…
There was no way they could pursue a real relationship until this Aviary thing was over.
Because she wasn’t being tortured enough, Kat and Steven stopped by to shoot the Mary-Jane breeze with Patrick.
Nala pulled out headphones to block out their asinine conversations, but she couldn’t escape that sweet, heinous smell of marijuana as it sparked up and seeped deep into the living room walls.
The worth of this place is shot. It being Portland, however, probably meant the shoddy house was only worth 600k instead of 700k.
Once she finished her meal, she escaped into her closet.
Nala curled beneath a blanket and played on her new phone.
Varen had bought her an unlimited data plan, meaning she could look up anything on the internet that she wanted.
Watch videos. Listen to music. Finally, after who knew how long, Nala was finally starting to feel like a real young adult.
Too bad she couldn’t print from her phone and still had to go to the library.
While she perused an article about the plight of the disappearing bees, her phone buzzed with another message from Varen.
“I have something for you. It was supposed to be delivered to your house, but there was a miscommunication, and it was delivered to my office instead. I’m leaving early. You home?”
“You don’t have to do that. You can give it to me the next time you see me.”
“I’d like to give it to you before tomorrow.”
“Maybe later.”
She thought that would mean later that evening. Maybe that night. Not five minutes later, when someone knocked on the door and one of her stoned housemates stumbled to answer.
By the time Nala realized that it might be Varen, it was too late. She was up in her closet, but her door opened without permission.
“There she is!” Patrick said, pointing at a mortified Nala. “This is her room! Have fun!”
Oh. My. God.
Nala’s mouth dropped open so Varen’s wouldn’t have to.
Her eyes bulged, however, taking in the sight of Nala’s bullshit of a “room.”
Did not help her ego that Varen was dressed in her work outfit, pants crisp and burgundy shirt hiding beneath a plain black suit jacket.
Nala could smell perfume down there. This is it.
This is the pinnacle of my shame. Nala had to look away before she cried.
“I, uh…” Varen pulled a hand from her pocket.
“This has happened.” Nala forced herself up, nearly knocking her head into the closet rod holding all her clothes, including some of the nice dresses Varen had given her. “Get a good look right now. I live in a closet.”
“What?”
They faced the brutal truth. Nala, the fuck buddy and sugar baby, was living in a dilapidated house for potheads and barely had a closet space to call her own.
“Okay, get the closet jokes out of your system now. I’ve heard them all. Just do it.”
“Nala. Get out of there.”
“Come out of the closet? I didn’t know I had to announce my sexuality to the world.”
“Nala.”
She pushed Varen out of the way and stepped into the hall, refusing to let anyone sense her wounded pride.
“Were you ever going to tell me about this?”
“Why the hell would I? You’re not my girlfriend.”
Varen stepped back as if those words stung. You’re not. Just because I fuck you doesn’t mean we’re serious. Nala was having a devil of a time maintaining eye contact.
“Nala,” Varen said again, this time more evenly.
“This isn’t okay. This isn’t healthy. Honestly, I’m shocked. These people…”
She glanced at the pot party going on in the living room as if Nala’s girlfriend wouldn’t give a shit – hell, they probably hoped she would join in.
“These people shouldn’t be doing this to you,” she hissed.
“Would you step off?” Nala had half a mind to stick her finger in Varen’s chest.
“Come on. Pack up your most important things. We can get the rest later. You’re paid through the rest of the month, right?”
“What?”
Varen started grabbing hangers full of clothes. “Do you have a suitcase for these?”
“What?”
She swung toward Nala, that composed face now turning into something… bereaved.
“You’re coming to live with me. I can’t let this situation continue.”
“Who the fuck are you!” Yet Nala stood there, probably in shock, watching this businesswoman pull down a small rolling suitcase from the top shelf. Varen emptied the contents and started stuffing it with the clothes she held in her hands.
“What are you doing? I can’t live with you!”
“Nala.” Varen brought her close, minty breath overtaking Nala’s face. “Stop this. Stop being so stubborn. You don’t have to stay with me long-term. Come stay with me until we can find you a place more suitable.”
She didn’t want to argue. God knew she wanted a new place to live… but with Varen? Even if it was only temporary, that sounded like a recipe for a plague to end the ages.
Besides, I don’t need her acting like a knight in shining armor. That only complicated what relationship they had. Nala would feel like shit and, well, maybe Varen would think she somehow owed her.
“You ever think that maybe there’s no such thing as gender?”
Patrick, high as a fucking kite, asked the air before him.
“Oh! Or maybe each of us is all genders. Yeah, I’d like to believe that I’m all genders… and you too Nala…”
He reached out for her, but she was too quick for his touch.
“You’re a budding goddess of gender equality.”
“What the fuck?”
“Nala, please. My car is out front.”
“And this chick here! I don’t know who you are, but you’re super pretty. Would you be my girlfriend?”
“Nala!”
“All right!” She kicked open the suitcase and started dumping her underwear and T-shirts in as quickly as possible. “Get me the fuck out of here!”
She may not have owned a lot, but it felt like an eternity getting her shit out of the closet and into Varen’s car.
By nightfall, Nala’s suitcase and assorted bags of clothes and items were shoved into a corner of Varen’s loft. She promised to clean space out of a closet for her, but until then, Nala was left living out of a suitcase… which was slightly better than her last situation.
In the meantime, she told Varen the story of how she had come to Portland months ago, searched high and low for a place she could even dream of affording…
and how every one of those places dried up because she didn’t make enough money.
Eventually, she took what nobody else would touch: Patrick’s coat closet. It wasn’t home, but it was dry.
Varen glared at her the whole time as if she couldn’t imagine being so poor that she had to stoop so low as to live in a pothead’s closet. Of course she doesn’t have to think about those things. She probably grew up upper middle class and always had the biggest bedroom in the house. Sigh.
“I’ll buy out the rest of your lease,” Varen promised. “We’ll get you set up somewhere much better if you don’t want to stay here. Would an apartment Downtown be good enough?”
Nala sat on the couch, curled up into a tiny ball of rage as she thought about what Varen was trying to do for her. Don’t make me owe you, asshole. “Even the rent alone is outrageous. Last time I looked, downtown apartments cost like a thousand bucks a month.”
“I’m not talking about renting. I’m talking about buying you a place. I’ll invest in the taxes so you don’t have to worry about that. Pay for your food and the electric bill.”
“Are you crazy?” Nala sat up, almost blinded by all the lights turned on in there. She had never seen Varen’s loft so bright. “That’s a few hundred grand, at least!”
“It’s nothing, if it means you’re happy.”
“I won’t be happy with that kind of arrangement,” she mumbled.
“Fine.” Varen sat at the dining table, sorting through her mail, still dressed in her business best – although the jacket was hung up in the closet she promised to clean out for Nala.
“Whatever.” Nala wasn’t going to argue right now. Emotions are still too high. If Nala pushed this issue, she might make a bigger ass out of herself than usual. That would be a feat.
“Look, don’t worry about putting me out,” Varen said. “I’m not here during the day. You can have the run of the place. Bathrooms are yours to use. Feel free to stock whatever you want in the kitchen. Cook whenever you want, although I’ll order us something tonight.”
Nala rolled her eyes, pulling a pillow down the couch and looking around for a blanket. She was ready for a nap after all that crap.
“What are you doing?”
“This is my bed, ain’t it? Last I checked you don’t have a guest room. Please point me in the direction if you do, though. Otherwise, I’m claiming this couch in the name of the great state of Nala Nazarov, one of the final frontiers real estate Xan Ravenwood has yet to touch.”
Varen tossed her mail onto the table. “Don’t be stupid. Of course you can sleep with me.”
“Oh, I have every assumption that says I would be allowed, even welcomed to do that.”