A Girl by Any Other Name by MK Schiller

Author:MK Schiller [Schiller, MK]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Erotic Romance Fiction
Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
Published: 2013-09-12T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Sylvie’s place, an efficiency apartment situated in an artsy part of town, matched her style. “So this is you,” I said, gesturing to the space. There was a small couch, which I supposed Momma would refer to as a loveseat. The only other furniture was a twin-sized bed that I wondered how we were both going to sleep on and a chest of drawers. One wall screamed out, painted bright red, but the rest were stark white. It felt like Sylvie in some ways, but it also felt cramped and foreign too.

“It’s not much, but rent’s cheap.” She took the bags from me, and placed them on a small countertop that housed a few miniature appliances and served as her kitchen.

I immediately started checking the windows and locks. “You need a deadbolt. The one you have isn’t very strong and you don’t even have a peephole.”

She shrugged. “I don’t get many visitors. Do you want beer or wine?”

“Beer. It doesn’t matter how many visitors you get. It’s a pretty basic safety protocol.”

“I’ll call the landlord if it makes you feel better,” she responded, handing me a beer.

“Don’t bother. I can do it. We’ll hit Home Depot tomorrow.”

“You know the US Marshal’s office still looks after me.”

“Yeah, and they did such a fucking brilliant job the first time,” I spat. She winced at the harshness in my tone. I put my arm around her, pulling her close to me. “I’m sorry, I just want to take whatever precautions we can.”

“I understand. I work tomorrow, but we can go in the morning.”

I suddenly felt pretty stupid since this was such an obvious thing for me to know and also the one thing I hadn’t asked her about. “I don’t know where you work.”

She laughed. “Of course you don’t. I never told you. I work at an art supply store.”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s boring most of the time, but I teach a few classes for children and I love that part.”

“You were always good with kids. You were very good with Mandy.”

“Oh, my God, I never asked you how she was,” she replied, clapping her hand to her mouth in guilt.

“Sylvie, don’t freak out about that. Like I said, we know each other, but we do have to get reacquainted, and there’s plenty of time for that.”

“How are your mom and Mandy? I know some things because I’ve been keeping tabs on the Internet, but only what they post on their Facebook pages.”

“They’re really good. Momma’s still running bake sales and heading up the choir. Mandy’s in college at Baylor majoring in music therapy. She got a scholarship.”

“You must be so proud of her.”

“We are, but you had a hand in that too. Between my dad, Mom and you, she developed a great love for music.”

“She had a true talent for it. Far more than I did.”

“I don’t know about that. Remember, I heard you singing at the WC.”

“Yes, but you’re tone deaf.”

“Funny, smartass. Do you still play? I don’t see a piano.

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