Page 10 of The Reluctant Roommate

She led Heidi through the living area. The pale-gray walls with white trim around the windows and skirting perfectly highlighted her white leather couch. The ice-blue rug on the floor in front of the wide-screen TV gave a pop of subtle color, as her interior designer had said, right before she’d upsold Morgan on coordinated artwork, a modern feature vase, and a large spray of artificial cherry blossom.

“It’s lovely,” Heidi said. “You have good taste. It looks as if a professional put this together.”

Morgan offered a small smile. No need to elaborate. “The kitchen, living area, and home gym will be shared spaces. Do you cook much?”

“I like to, but I haven’t had much time lately. But I clean up when I do. No dirty dishes in the sink or sauce on the counter.” She ran a finger over the counter. “You’re obviously the same. This is cleaner than most kitchens where I’ve worked.”

“You said in your email that you’re a bartender.” That had been a sticking point for Morgan. That wasn’t a professional career, in her opinion. “Have you always done that?”

“No.” Heidi leaned against the counter and crossed her ankles. Her socks were thick and practical, worn thin on both big toes. “I’ve always prioritized travel and experiences over a career. But I’m thirty-two now and think I need more than a backpack and a string of poor decisions. Yes, I should have gone to uni straight from school. I was accepted into Sydney University to study psychology but took a gap year. I bought an old van, did it up myself as a campervan and worked my way around Australia.” She lifted a slim shoulder. “Somehow, I nevertook up that uni place. I’m thinking about it now—and it’s about time I stuck at something. I’ve got the intake information from the University of Denver. So bartending is a good fit around full-time study.”

“DU’s only a couple of miles away,” Morgan said. That was potentially good. If Heidi was studyingandworking full-time, then she wouldn’t have much time for anything else. “Come see the room.”

She led the way upstairs. “That’s my room.” She waved a hand at the closed door. “I have the master bedroom and the bigger en suite.”

“You must have an amazing view of the mountains too.”

“I do. It’s floor-to-ceiling glass. It gets hot in summer, facing west as it does, but the rest of the year, it’s fantastic.”

She went along the hallway. “Linen closet and other storage here. “This would be your room.” She opened the door and let Heidi precede her.

“Wow.” Heidi turned a circle. “This is lovely.”

That designer again. The room was pale cream with a light-blue carpet and drapes. The view was of the house opposite. “It’s a quiet street. Not much traffic noise. The queen bed and furniture stays.”

Heidi pressed the bed. “Good and firm.”

“It was new when I moved in. If you don’t have linen, you can use what I have—my bed’s a king.”

Heidi opened the door to the bathroom. “This is like a hotel.” Her gaze wandered over the tiled shower, the vanity unit. “If you’re comfortable with me as a roomie, I’d love to move in.”

“Let’s go downstairs and chat.”

Back in the kitchen, Morgan made a fresh pot of coffee. There were a couple of beige flags about Heidi, but so far nothing that was an automatic no. She was pleasant, although, if anything, a bit too casual.

“Where are your mugs?” Heidi started opening cabinet doors.

Definitely a bit casual.

“Here.” Morgan brushed past her and took two matching white mugs from a shelf. She and Heidi were similar heights, and the fleeting touch of Heidi’s arm against her own wasn’t awkward. That had to be good. Casual touches weren’t normally her thing.

“Ask me anything.” Heidi cradled the mug Morgan handed to her. “I’m queer—pansexual. You said you wanted queer only in the ad, so you’re…?”

“Lesbian,” Morgan said. “I’m not obvious about it. Work doesn’t encourage personal interactions, but I’ve been out since I was a teenager.”

“Me too,” Heidi said. “Had my first girlfriend at fourteen. Then a couple of boyfriends. I came to the States with a girlfriend. She’s American, from California. We went there first, but we’ve since split up. I don’t know where she is now.” That smile again, but this time it flickered, a bit off-kilter. “So, no baggage, no exes appearing on the doorstep. I’m single and not looking.”

“What brought you to Denver?” Again, the feeling that she knew Heidi from somewhere tickled at the corners of her consciousness.

“A friend of a friend offered me a job in her queer bar in Denver. But when I arrived, the bar had closed up. Left me literally standing on Broadway with no job, knowing no one.”

The memory landed with a thump in her mind. “That’s where I know you from! I met you outside Foxies; you asked if I knew where it had moved to.” Relief trickled through her that Heidi wasn’t connected to Mattingley in any way.

“Oh! I remember you now. You had a gorgeous snuggly-looking scarf, but you didn’t know about Capitol HillBackpackers. It is safe for solo women, by the way, if anyone asks you again. As safe as anywhere these days.”

“Good to know.” A hostel? She’d never set foot inside one, even in her college days. Morgan led the way into the living area and sat in the recliner. “We might as well be comfortable while we chat. So, you’re working somewhere nearby?”

Heidi grimaced. “I have good hours at the FlyInn, just south of downtown. I’m sure you don’t know it—it’s almost certainly not your sort of place. The boss is a shit, but it’s okay apart from that. I’m looking for somewhere better, though, and in the meantime, the pay’s okay. I can afford your rent, if that’s what’s worrying you.”