Turn Up the Heat by Weston Parker

Author:Weston Parker [Parker, Weston]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B07MSP7WGP
Publisher: BrixBaxter Publishing
Published: 2019-03-29T00:00:00+00:00

18

Brea

I closed the closet doors of my laundry room in the hallway outside my bedroom and carried my basket of clean clothes into the living room to perform one of my favorite and relaxing chores: folding my clothes.

I knew it was something most people loathed, but there was something oddly satisfying about making sure each piece was perfectly folded and pressed before being tucked back in my drawers. It was something I had enjoyed since I was a young girl, which perplexed my friends and even my parents, who were always scratching their heads over how tidy I kept my space.

My apartment was the same. Everything had a home and it could always be found where it was supposed to be. My clothes fell into the same category.

I knelt down at the table and set the basket down beside me. I picked up one item at a time, folded it perfectly, and tucked it into its respective pile, which I added to as I made my way through the basket: jeans, leggings, lounge wear, undergarments, socks. My work clothes, mostly blouses and some dress pants, were left draped over the side of the basket to be hung up in my closet.

I was folding the last pair of jeans when there was a knock on my apartment door.

“It’s open!”

Valerie let herself into my place. “Good morning,” she said cheerfully, her floral-printed skirt swishing around her legs as she came through the kitchen to join me in the living room.

“Morning,” I said, placing the last pair of jeans on the pile of folded items. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” Valerie grinned. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

I shrugged. “No plans. I was going to stay in and get some housework done. My sheets are in the laundry now, and I wanted to clean the bathroom.”

“Have you talked to Allen yet?”

She was clearly already bored of my day’s itinerary. “No, not yet.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not like I’m not going to see him. I’d rather talk to him in person is all.”

Valerie perched herself on the edge of my sofa and peered at my clothes neatly folded upon the coffee table. “You know, I’d pay you to come to my place and do this for me once a week. If I had extra money to throw around, of course.”

“Of course.” I smiled. “I’d do it for free.”

“Really?”

I nodded. “Really. I enjoy it. It’s therapeutic.”

“Therapeutic? As in, it offers a much-needed distraction?”

“I guess you could look at it that way. Sure.”

“A distraction from a certain sexy fireman named Allen?”

I blushed. “Maybe.”

Valerie slapped her hands on her thighs. “Come on. There’s something you should see.”

“I need to finish.”

“You are finished, Brea. You just need to hang stuff up. Don’t worry. It’s not like you’re not coming back here. Put your shoes on.”

“Should I change?” I asked, gesturing at the little summer dress I had on. It wasn’t something I wore outside very often, but it was a warm and humid day, and I didn’t really feel like putting on pants.

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