Page 5 of The Roommate Problem
Ridiculous. That wasn’t even a real thing. Just a stupid trope some dude in Hollywood made up to excuse his whiny male characters’ bad behavior.
First of all, she couldn’t help it that she barely topped five feet. Blame that on genetics and her inability to wear platform shoes without falling and breaking an ankle. What was wrong with being happy and positive all the time? Maybe if more people tried it, the world wouldn’t be such a crap fest. Besides, she liked her clothes—they were comfy and fun. Changing her hair color every few weeks gave her a sense of control. Life was often chaotic, and unexpected obstacles got thrown in your path. Fun hair was her way of maintaining her sanity. And it was better than trying to cut her own bangs every time something stressed her out.
She placed her hands on her desk, staring at her friends. “You guys, it’s fine.”
Pru and Lilly didn’t appear convinced. Mo sighed, rising from her desk and coming over to sit in one of the plush chairs facing Lilly’s desk. Since she was the one who had the most face time with the clients, she had the big fancy desk, while Mo and Pru had smaller desks in the corner of the large, one-roomed office of their wedding planning business, Mile High Happiness. Pru left her desk as well and came to join Mo and Lilly, taking the other comfy chair next to Mo.
“Okay.” She made a come on motion with her hand. “Lay it on me.”
Pru glanced at Lilly, and the two silently communicated. A skill they all possessed with each other—being friends for over a decade had benefits like that. But right now, it was really annoying. She wished they would just spit out their concerns so she could alleviate them and they could get on with their workday.
“Oh, for the love of!” She leaned forward in her chair, blocking her friends’ view of each other. “Just say whatever it is you want to say.”
Pru tilted her head around Mo, arching her brow at Lilly, who nodded, pushing her glasses up her nose when they slipped down. Trying to hide her amusement at her friends’ loving, but unnecessary, worry over her, Mo sat back in her seat and waited.
Lilly straightened in her seat, her gaze focused directly on Mo. “Moira.”
Uh oh. Whenever Lilly used her full name, she knew she was about to get a stern lecture. Though she was only two years younger than her friends’ thirty, Lilly and Pru tended to treat her like a kid sister at times. It might have been helpful when she was the sixteen-year-old freshman to their eighteen in college, but now it was simply annoying. She was smart enough to skip two grades in high school. She could handle her own life, thank you very much.
“Oh brother, here we go.” She slumped back in her seat.
Lilly scowled. “We’re merely worried about you.”
They didn’t need to be. No one needed to be. She could take care of herself. Plus, if anyone messed with her, all she had to do was call her brothers, and the four Rossi men, who she liked to claim stole all her height, would defend their little sister in a heartbeat.
“You’re living with a guy, Mo. A guy who’s probably bigger than you. A guy you don’t know at all,” Pru said, hands twisting together in her lap.
Reaching across the armrest, Mo grabbed Pru’s hands and squeezed. “Sweetie, I know you’re a mom now, but you’re not my mom.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Yes,” she interrupted her friend before she could make excuses, “I am living with a guy who is bigger than me, but let’s be honest, most people over the age of eighteen are.”
“Most people under the age of eighteen are, too,” Lilly stated.
Mo ignored Lilly’s tease, scratching her cheek with her middle finger in her friend’s direction.
“Very mature, Mo.”
Hey, Lilly had started it. Besides, they lived to annoy each other; it was their love language. Something she missed dreadfully since her friend had moved out. Now she had no one to annoy on the reg.
“And,” she continued to Pru, “he’s Mrs. Porter’s grandson. If Agatha trusts him, then so do I. Besides, I have a lock on my door and Nut Basher under my bed.”
And she’d never hesitate to use either.
At the mention of the baseball bat her older brother had given her when she moved into the college dorms, with explicit instruction to use it on any guy who didn’t take no for an answer, Lilly and Pru exchanged another worried glance.
“You guys, seriously. It’s fine,” she assured her friends. “August seems like a stand-up guy.”
A bit of a grump, possibly a neat freak, who had terrible taste in pizza, but okay as far as she could tell. He also had reservations about rooming with a member of the opposite sex, so she took that as a good sign. If he wasn’t a good guy, he would have gotten all pervy the moment he saw her and tried to make a pass. And she would have grabbed Nut Basher and kicked his ass to the curb. Moira Rossi did not suffer assholes or creeps.
Her friends still appeared unsure, so she brought out the best argument she had. “You both trust Agatha, right?”
That got the tense lines on their faces to relax. They all loved Mrs. Porter. The woman was sweet, kind, and a fantastic florist. A pseudo grandmother to them all.
But Mo most of all.
Lilly had a handsome fiancé. Pru had a hero husband and two adorable twins. Since Mo had no romantic entanglements to speak of at the moment, she claimed dibs on all the granny love from Agatha. Only seemed fair.
