“He said that?” Gretchen stood with her eyes wide as her newly sewn satin drapes slid off the curtain rod onto the slate-tile floor.
“Exactly like that,” Sara said. “I mean, I’ll admit I was out of line telling him what he could and couldn’t do with the apartment he owned. But it just doesn’t make sense. Why would he pay for all these changes without expecting to raise the rent?”
“I’ll tell you why.” Gretchen picked the curtain off the floor and slid it back over the rod. “You flashed your baby blues at the man and he fell hopelessly in love with you.”
“Yeah, right. That reminds me. He freaked when he saw my eyes were blue. I tell you, the man is demented. I think I should be afraid.”
“Sweetie, you just worded that wrong. The man freaked when he saw your blue eyes. They are an unusual color. I just think he’s smitten with you and you can’t recognize it because of the giant wall you’ve built around yourself to keep men out. Well, you can’t keep this man out. He owns your apartment. He has a key.”
“That’s a scary thought.” Sara ran red thread through the sewing machine. She’d considered telling Gretchen about her date with Ron to counter her reference to her wall keeping men out, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to relive the ridiculous night with an ignorant, rude man. She didn’t even want to think about that night.
“I think its destiny,” Gretchen said. “Now, tell me again what he looks like.”
“I already told you. He and Shane Adams could be brothers, except Mr. Dimitriou is younger, much more handsome, and way taller. I swear his hair brushed dust streaks on my ceiling. Now, I ask you, how is a girl in a wheelchair supposed to scrub ceilings?” she asked, holding a straight pin in her mouth.
“Your ceilings are exceptionally low. But that still puts him at about seven feet tall. Wow.”
“Wow—as in scary.”
Gretchen climbed the step stool and hung her curtain. After adjusting the fabric, she smiled. “You’re in the wrong profession, girl. You should be a seamstress. This looks amazing. Now only one window to go.”
“Yeah, yeah. So what do I do about the giant?”
“I think you should plant a big wet one on him next time you see him, but that’s just me.” Gretchen smiled.
She was not taking this seriously enough. “I don’t know why I try to have intelligent conversations with you. Oh shoot. Look at the time. I need to get going if I’m going to be back before dark.” Sara wheeled her chair around. She packed her sewing supplies up in a box and scooted it under the table.
“All right, go. You’ve done your charity work for today. We can finish this tomorrow. Then we can go out and celebrate my new drapes. If you want to invite Shane Adams, I can find a date and we’ll double. I’d love to meet him.” Gretchen wriggled her eyebrows as she folded the last unfinished curtain panel and placed it in a box.
“It’s Mr. Dimitriou, and no, a date with him is completely out of the question. Not only am I broke, but he’s my landlord, for heaven’s sake.”
“Well, don’t worry about paying for it. It’ll be my payment for the curtains. And some of the best relationships start out between landlord and tenant.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m sorry my car is in the shop,” Gretchen said. “It should be ready tomorrow. Do you want me to walk you home?” She pulled the completed curtains closed over the darkening windows, and then smiled in appreciation.
