Thief at Heart [On Hold.]

Chapter 6

 "Gum!" I exclaimed, excited. Michael had brought suitcases into our room, while Landon and I were out, and I found a whole pack of gum, waiting for me on the table. A note was attached. It said Be ready.

I didn't have to ask what I was supposed to be ready for. Instead, I opened the gum and stuck two pieces in my mouth.

God, I loved gum.

I added three more.

Just one more piece left in the package. I wondered if it would fit in my mouth. I had a very small mouth. In the literal meaning of course.

I heard a sound from behind me and turned. Landon was standing at the door of my room, looking down, seemily embarrassed.

I frowned. "What's wrong?" I tried to ask around the gum.

"Your...clothes." I looked down at myself. I was wearing my PJ short-shorts and a tank top.

I rolled my eyes. "Calm down there, buddy," I said. Or at least, tried. It sounded more like "Sham shown shere, bushy." Say that five times fast. "Landon," I began.

"Yeah?" He stepped in, closing the door behind him. He looked like he was trying not to snicker at the way I was talking.

"Do you want gum?"

He chuckled. "No, I'm good."

"'Kay. I have another question."

"Shoot."

“Why are you charging Michael and I so little for rent?”

“What does your boyfriend do for a living?” he deflected.

“Why’s that relevant?”

“Why aren’t you answering it?”

“His job doesn’t pay well,” I conceded. And I wasn’t really lying. His job didn’t pay well. Michael wasn’t the thief. I was. My job paid alright. Depended on who I was robbing.

“Then there’s your answer,” Landon replied gently.

I was outraged. “So you’re cutting us a cheap deal because you think we’re poor?”

“Are you offended?” He sounded amused.

“Yes!”

“Don’t be. I’m doing you a favor. Do you want to know what the real charge should be?”

I was curious. “What?”

“Five thousand. A week.”

I gasped, appalled. “Seriously? A week?”

“Exactly. Now I have a question.” Landon sounded truly entertained, now. “Do you want to be charged twenty-thousand-dollars a month?”

The number sounded horrendously big. “No,” I conceded. “But I still don’t want to be pitied and take charity,” I added stubbornly.

“It’s not charity.”  He brushed back a tendril of my baby-fine, nearly colorless hair.

“Master,” a voice interrupted. I turned to glare at Lyndsy, standing at the door of my room. She had interrupted a sweet moment between me and a hot guy: that was reason enough for murder, let alone a dirty look. “Janice would like to speak with you.” She cast me a contemptuous look. “It’s about the new tenant.”

I mimicked her behind Landon’s back, not realizing that he could see me through my reflection in the mirror.

There was cough, to hide a snicker. “I’ll be there in a minute, Lyndsy.”