Chapter 3

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By midafternoon the following day, Piper had unpacked almost all her boxes. She had them broken down flat and ready to be hauled to the recycling bins. There were three suitcases and an overnight bag to sort, including arranging everything she’d just dumped on the counter in her bathroom, but her progress stopped at the distracting growling of her stomach. She’d DoorDashed her last two meals with protein bars to snack on in between, but she couldn’t stand the thought of more takeout or another less-than-satisfying chemical-infused, weird-tasting bar. Neither could Jaxx, considering how he sniffed it then meowed and slinked away. Since, like Old Mother Hubbard, her cupboards were completely bare, she grabbed her purse and headed to the nearest grocery store.

Piper picked up essential items like butter, ketchup, salt and pepper, and ice cream, which she firmly believed should be a food group unto itself. She also bought enough salad fixings and grilled chicken to last a few days and two cans of Fancy Feast for her finicky roommate. She didn’t always give him wet food, which was his preference, only as a treat. But after moving twice in less than a year, she felt she needed to make it up to him. These few items added up quickly, as did the fill-up on her car, leaving her bank account much lighter when she arrived home.

Juggling four grocery bags, a half gallon of milk, and her purse, she had to close her trunk with her elbow. Exhausted, with a lot of work still ahead, her steps dragged as she carried her haul to the front stairs. She paused at the bottom, seeing a delivery man descending with an enormous vase of yellow roses—her favorite.

Wearing a cap and a T-shirt with a logo for The Posy Shop, the older man said, “Excuse me, miss. I have a delivery for a Piper Emory in #112, but no one is answering the bell. Might I leave them with you?”

“I’m Piper.”

He grinned broadly and exclaimed, “Great timing.”

“Can you hang onto them a sec while I get my groceries inside?”

“Sure.” He shifted the vase to one arm. “I can take a few bags if you’d like.”

She liked. They were getting heavy, and she had to have a free hand to open the gate and her front door.

He waited on the landing, as she made two trips getting the bags to her kitchen counter. Then she sent him on his way with a generous tip.

His footsteps were still echoing on the concrete as she stood in her open doorway with the glass vase, trying to figure out who would send her a dozen roses. Her first thought was Matt. But she hadn’t left him a forwarding address. Her second was the grouch...ahem, the “decent guy” next door, but Tristan didn’t seem like the sending-flowers type.

She put her nose to one bud, inhaled deeply, and then plucked the card from among the blooms to appease her curiosity.

It read: Welcome to our friendly community!

That’s it. No signature. Her excitement instantly dimmed.

“Flowers! Lucky girl. Who are they from?”

She looked up to see Josie walking to her door, arms laden with several colorful rolls of fabric and leather. “I wish I knew.” She glanced back at the card. “It doesn’t say. Is this a tradition for new tenants? Like a welcome wagon?”

“Not that I know of. I’d have to ask Hunter.”

“Right,” she murmured. “You’re a temporary resident, too.”

“No name on the card means you’ve got a secret admirer,” she exclaimed. “How exciting.”

“I’d rather have a name.”

“Do you think they’re from...” She paused, her gaze going to the door next to Piper’s.

“Who? The guy who was so pissed off I took his parking space that he facilitated getting me out of it as fast as possible then told me off and stormed out?”

Josie frowned. “Hunter and I were talking about that. Something must have been bothering him yesterday.”

“Yeah. Me!”

“No. Tristan can be surly, but he’s never outright rude,” she insisted. “In fact, he has always been polite to me. You could try calling the florist and see if they recall who sent yellow roses today. A tall, bald, bearded, sexy AF hunk, for instance, would be hard to forget.”

Piper sniffed, highly skeptical. “I doubt if he gave me another thought after he stalked away. Besides, who orders flowers in person these days?”

“True.” Josie shifted the load of material in her arms. “While you solve your mystery, Sherlock, I’ll be over here sewing. I should get inside. These leather cuts weigh a ton.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t even offer to help.” She glanced around for a place to put down the vase.

“No problem. I’ve got it!” With a grunt and a hip bump, she swung her door inward. “Keep me posted if you identify a suspect. Later!”

PIPER EYED THE OVERFLOWING dumpster with disgust. A horde of flies buzzed relentlessly around it, and it stank to high heaven in the sweltering July heat. Even upwind from twenty yards away, she could smell it. Her information sheet from the owner listed garbage pickup as every Friday. It was Sunday. From the mountain of bags above the rim, no way had that happened.

Holding her breath, Piper moved as quickly as possible. With both hands, she gripped one of her two bags, and, with a determined grunt, launched it toward the towering heap. Her effort fell short, however, and it teetered on the edge. Time seemed to slow as she watched it slide inch by slow inch, as if taunting her, then fall, crashing to the ground with a resounding clunk.

“Lousy sanitation department,” she muttered between short pants of air, trying hard not to breathe through her nose.

When she reached for the bag, which thankfully hadn’t busted open, to give it another go, hands brushed hers aside.

“I’ll get it.”

Startled, Piper quickly turned, relieved to see someone she knew—sort of. In the waning light of evening, she watched her handsome next-door-neighbor’s arm and shoulder muscles flex as he hefted both her trash bags effortlessly onto the pile.

“Thank you,” she said, grateful that the two bags had stayed on top. “This is the second time you’ve come to my rescue.”

When he didn’t comment, she kept going. “It’s Tristan, right? I wanted to apologize again for the parking space issue. I didn’t know.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, tossing his bag onto the pile.

Searching for another topic to fill the awkward void in conversation, she recalled a notice she saw on the community activities board by the mailboxes. “I hear there’s a complex-wide pool party the weekend after next. It sounds like a great opportunity for me to meet people. Are you planning to go?”

“Probably not. I don’t attend many of the social activities.”

Piper felt a twinge of disappointment when he barely glanced her way and walked off without saying another word. Despite his abrupt exit, she couldn’t help but admire his broad shoulders and lean hips in another snug black T-shirt and faded jeans as he took the stairs two at a time.

When he disappeared inside, she let out a sigh. Clearly, he wasn’t interested in getting to know her. Or perhaps he was still annoyed.

She glanced down at her casual, evening-at-home outfit of a cropped top, shorts, and flip-flops. It wasn’t exactly haute couture, especially with her hair in a messy bun. She reached up to brush back the numerous escaped strands but had to shoo away several flies. Forgetting to breathe through her nose, she got another strong whiff.

“Who lingers next to a trash dumpster for small talk?” she asked herself, hurriedly following in Tristan’s wake.

But as she climbed the steps, one by one, she had to acknowledge that most people with the slightest bit of friendliness and manners would have at least said good night.

“Isn’t it just my luck? I move in next to an attractive single man, and he only acknowledges my existence when I annoy him.”

“Piper?”

She whirled at her name. Hunter was climbing the steps behind her, and she hadn’t noticed until he’d spoken.

“Is something wrong?”

“Yes. You heard me talking to myself. How embarrassing.”

“If I had, I wouldn’t be uncouth enough to mention it,” he said with a teasing grin. His gaze shifted to her door. “Are you settling in?”

“Actually, I’m settled. I just hauled the last of my trash to the dumpster. I have some recycling to take to the center, but that’s it.”

Leaning against the railing, he smiled up at her. “I’m impressed. I have boxes in storage from a move four years ago.”

“They say after six months you’re supposed to toss it because you don’t really need it.”

“I’ve heard that, but I’ve gotta admit I’m a bit of a hoarder. I couldn’t sleep at night if I tossed a receipt for a two-sizes-too-small pair of jeans I bought in 2018.”

She laughed. “I’ve got the opposite problem. I can’t sleep at night if there’s clutter.”

“Have you eaten? I’m starved, but I haven’t been to the store in forever. We could grab a bite and get to know one another better.”

Her stomach lurched. Was his offer a casual bite between new neighbors, or was he interested in more? Good grief, maybe he’d heard her comment about the attractive single guy next door and thought she meant him.

“I’ve had a really long day. Check that. A really long week, and it’s only Tuesday. Another time, maybe?”

“Definitely,” he agreed with a grin that suggested he wanted more of a date than a friendly dinner.

She quickly but gently dispossessed him of the idea she was interested. “Being new to Santa Monica, I’m eager to grow my circle of friends, especially ones close by who I can depend on.”

“Right. Friends,” he drawled, disappointment in his tone.

His smile faded. Her message had been received loud and clear. She immediately felt terrible. He’d been nothing but nice to her. Piper the people pleaser waffled.

“Maybe we can grab that bite soon. Or, I’m a decent cook. I’ll have you and Josie over for dinner.”

“Either sounds great,” he replied, not sounding angry or getting snarky like some men did when rejected.

“Good. I’ll check my work schedule and get us on the calendar. For now, I’m going to call it an early night because the move wore me out. I’m beat.”

Piper smiled and gave a little finger wave, relieved when he returned the former.

As she let herself into her apartment, her thoughts turned from Hunter, a friendly, good-looking guy she really should be interested in, to Tristan, who she definitely shouldn’t. Apart from lending a hand with the trash bags and her boxes, the grouch next door had shown no other signs of being neighborly. But she couldn’t shake the feeling there was an untold story beneath his surly outer shell.

Still waters run deep as they say. What about grumpy waters? Maybe he needed someone to show him a little warmth and kindness.

“Who better than me?” she exclaimed with a smile.

A former high school cheerleader who was perpetually upbeat when most teens were moody, she’d earned the nickname, Sunshine, from the squad, and it had stuck. They’d put it in quotes under her picture in her senior yearbook. With a newfound resolve to get more out of Tristan than grunts and growls, she straightened her shoulders and went to wash her hands, already plotting her next move.

OPPORTUNITY TO PUT her plan into action arrived the next day in her mailbox. As she walked back to her condo, flipping through the stack of envelopes, mostly ads, she stopped at a bank logo she didn’t recognize. The address was correct, but the unit number was off by one.

Not expecting him to be home, she knocked on Tristan’s door anyway. When it opened, she smiled and exclaimed, “Greetings fellow Midwesterner!”

“Excuse me?” An undercurrent of impatience kept his response from being polite.

He propped his hands on his hips, drawing her gaze downward to his glistening chest and chiseled abs. Her mouth went dry, and she found herself unable to speak, much less tear her gaze away.

When a second passed, he prompted, “I’m in the middle of a workout. Is there something you need?”

“I...um...” She stopped stammering and held up the letter. “This was in my box by mistake. I noticed the bank and postmark are in Nebraska. I’m from Iowa, your neighbor one state over.”

He took it from her, barely uttering, “Thanks,” as he stepped back to swing the door shut.

Despite his abruptness, Piper forced a bright smile. “No problem at all! Just wanted to make sure you got it. Have a great night!”

The last part, she had to call through the door. As she walked back to her apartment, she questioned Josie’s definition of decent. Did he hide his ill-tempered, closed-off manner when others were around?

“Even a professional grouch can’t be like that way all the time, I suppose,” she reasoned aloud, giving both her neighbors the benefit of the doubt like she did everyone.

Once inside, she kicked off her shoes, dropped her purse on the coffee table, and flopped down in a chair, flipping through the stack of mail again. She opened her electric bill and sighed when it was twice as high as quoted.

“Hopefully, it’s from this darn heat wave and not a trend.” Setting it aside, she went back to flipping.

On the way to the trash, she saw another envelope tucked inside a local grocery circular. She closed her eyes, groaning. It too was addressed to you-know-who.

Getting up, letter in hand, she walked next door, not even bothering with shoes, and knocked once more.

“What is it now?” he snapped as soon as the panel flew open.

“I missed this one.” With a sheepish smile, she held up the envelope, not finishing her brief, four-word sentence before he snatched it from her.

“If it happens again, just slide it under.”

“I wasn’t the one who delivered it to the wrong box. Grumble at the mailman, not me!” Tired of getting her head bitten off simply for being neighborly, she demanded, “What’s your problem anyway?”

“I don’t appreciate getting interrupted once, let alone twice, during weight training.”

She didn’t believe for a second that was it. “You’re still mad about the parking space.”

“That’s in the past,” he scoffed, his tone laced with indignation, as if offended she would even imply he could hold a grudge over such a trivial incident.

Not Mr. Scintillating Personality. What was she thinking?

Her curiosity made her ask. “Then why do you always seem ticked off when you see me?”

“You’re mistaken,” he replied sharply. “If that’s all...”

“It is, but I know what I see. I hate to be the one to tell you this, neighbor, but you’ve got resting pissed face,” she dared to quip.

“Goodbye, Piper.” He abruptly ended further attempts at conversation by shutting the door with a solid thud, the lock clicking noticeably a second later.

Shocked, she gazed at the shiny gold number 110 for a moment before exclaiming, “What a jerk!”

Her words were loud enough for him to hear if he was anywhere close to the door and hadn’t stormed off. She didn’t wait around to see his reaction and stomped back to her condo.

“Ooo!” Piper exclaimed as she slammed the door, which didn’t begin to vent what she felt—anger, outrage, and utter exasperation. But most of all, regret that she’d allowed him and his surliness to bait her into an uncharacteristic outburst. “If he isn’t the most infuriating man I’ve ever met, I don’t know who is!”

Looking on the bright side, which was like her, it may not have been the politest encounter, but at least she’d gotten a goodbye out of him. And he remembered her name. That was progress. Perhaps next time, he might actually do something other than grumble and snap. She might even coax a smile out of him.

That notion was so improbable she burst into laughter, the sound echoing throughout her living room and up the stairs. “Yeah, right. Like I can move mountains.”

Laughter and rationalization were helpful coping mechanisms, but she needed a teensy bit more. Heading to the kitchen, she grabbed a bowl, her ice cream scoop, and the pint of H?agen-Dazs white chocolate raspberry truffle out of the freezer. It was a terrible dinner, but it soothed the sting of getting a door shut in her face twice in one evening. As she sat in her favorite chair, enjoying every creamy, decadent bite, she acknowledged the colossal challenge she had willingly taken on.

“Grouchy McGroucherson over there is one massive, immovable mountain,” she told Jaxx, who sat on the arm of her chair watching her eat. “It will take nothing short of a miracle to change that. But I’m going to give it my best shot.”