He nods, pushing his hands farther into his pockets. He doesn’t have gloves or a hat, and though it’s not exactly freezing yet, it is chilly. I’ve always found that something about the damp November air settles into your bones.

“Hi, Mrs. Hoffmeister,” I say with a slight wave.

She takes her last drag off her cigarette and tosses it toward the curb. “Kenzie, dear. Who is this fine gentleman?” She smiles and her yellowed teeth glow under the one light.

“This is Andrew. He’s a friend.” The words feel foreign coming out of my mouth because we are definitely not friends, but what am I supposed to say? He’s my brother’s friend and he hates Christmas but he wants to make partner, so now we’re playing nice to both get something that benefits us? And yes, he’s an attractive man, but there’s nothing between us romantically.

I don’t miss how Andrew’s frame jerks in my peripheral vision. He steps forward with his hand out, walking up the few steps. Mrs. Hoffmeister accepts it, not bothering to stand from the step.

“Pleasure,” he says.

Mrs. Hoffmeister turns her attention back to me. “I was hoping to catch up with you. My knees have really been bugging me this week and I was hoping I could count on you to maybe dust the apartment for me. It’s really bothering my allergies. And you know I’d do it but ever since my surgery…”

She trails off because she doesn’t need to finish her sentence. I’ve heard it all a million times. Ever since she had surgery on her knees two years ago, the cold, the rain, the snow—almost any weather event, it seems—makes it hard for her to do certain things.

“It’s getting late tonight, but I can pop by tomorrow morning before I start my day. How does that sound?”

“Oh, you’re an angel.” Her smile causes relief to surge through my veins.

“How’d you get down here to smoke?” Andrew asks with barely concealed skepticism, eyeballing the stairs she’s sitting on.

I get that uncomfortable pinch in my chest I always do whenever confrontation might be brewing, and I shoot Andrew a look with what I hope has daggers in it. At the very least, flaming arrows.

“Andrew.” I nod at him. “Let me know about that meeting.”

I don’t wait for him to respond. Instead, I move forward and offer Mrs. Hoffmeister my arm and help her up the steps and into the building. “I’ll be at your apartment in the morning.”

Once we’re in the building, she asks, “That your boyfriend?”

“Never in a million years.”

I ignore the way the words taste like a lie.

Chapter Nine

Kenzie