8. Olga

Olga

I shook my head once, attempting to clear out my brain. Maybe those two dirty martinis had hit me harder than I thought, because I could have sworn that my grade school friend had just asked me to move in with him even though we hadn’t seen each other in twenty-five years.

“Mikey!”

He winced. “Please, Michael or Mike now. Mikey sounds like a snot nosed kid.”

“Well, you were a snot nosed kid when I knew you,” I reminded him with a laugh.

“Okay, Michael, ” I said, emphasizing his full name. “Is the vodka making me hallucinate, or did you just invite me to move in with you after not seeing me since we were little kids?”

“I did.”

He acted like it was the most normal thing in the world to invite a virtual stranger to move in with him.

“I can’t move in with you,” I protested.

“Why not? I have an empty bedroom, two in fact. I live four blocks from here, and I’m gone a lot, so you’ll mostly have the place to yourself. And it’s a secure building with a doorman and a gym in the basement.”

“I have a cat,” I said.

“Bring it with you,” he responded with a careless shrug. “I don’t mind cats.”

“Him. Nutella can be a little cranky.”

That was a huge understatement. My cat was kind of a jerk.

“You named your cat Nutella?” he laughed. “That’s so funny.”

“Don’t you remember the first time you gave me Nutella? It was the best thing I’d ever put in my mouth. You brought me my own jar I could keep in my locker, remember?” I smiled at the memory. “I used to sneak a spoonful between classes.”

“Yeah, my mom was so pissed,” he said. “She thought I’d eaten it all myself and was lying about it.”

“Sorry about that,” I laughed.

“No you’re not,” he teased.

I forgot the way his eyes sparkled when he was amused.

“So what do you say, you want to be roomies?”

I stared at him consideringly. I couldn’t say why, but moving in with my old friend was sounding like a good solution to my problems. I just hoped he hadn’t turned into a psycho since the last time I saw him.

“If you’re serious about this, it would be great if I could stay with you until I find another apartment that I like,” I finally said. “I’ll find a better place if I’m not in such a hurry to move.”

“You can stay as long as you want,” he said. “I have plenty of space, I promise, and I’m not home a lot.”

“Okay but I’ll pay you rent.”

“You don’t need --.”

I held up my hand to interrupt him. “I’ll pay you the going rate for the room, Michael, no arguments.”

“Well I have an entire floor in a building on the Gold Coast, so I have no idea what the going rate for that would be,” he said. “How about you pay me whatever you were paying your current landlord and we call it good?”

I looked at him suspiciously. “Are you sure that’ll work?”

“No offense Olga, but I’m not exactly hurting for money.”

I sighed. “Great, another billionaire. I’m surrounded by them.”

He laughed. “I’m no billionaire. Although my accountant says I’m a millionaire. Most of my money is tied up in my businesses though, so it’s not like I’m sitting on a pile of gold coins like I’m Scrooge McDuck or something.”

“Well, I appreciate your offer more than you could know. You’ll really be helping me and Nutella out of a tight spot,” I said.

Again he waved his hand as if to indicate that it was no big deal.

“Okay great, well, when can I move in?” I asked. “Technically I have thirty days to get out of my current place, but I’d like to get relocated sooner rather than later. I’m ramping up a big project at work and I’m going to need to be putting in a lot of hours.”

“How about next Saturday?” he suggested. “I’m home all day.”

“That sounds great,” I said, picking up my phone to text my sister. “That gives me time to pack and figure out what I need to put in storage, and what I just want to get rid of.”

Even though I made a decent wage, I still had a house full of secondhand furniture. I couldn’t say why I was still living like I was in my twenties. My sister Alona was always teasing me about it, asking when I was going to make shelves out of milk crates and wooden boards.

My place wasn’t that bad, but most of my furniture was dated and well past its usual life. It’s not that I was against buying new furniture and things that didn’t need to be held together with duct tape, it was more like I never really got around to doing anything about it.

“You can store whatever you want in my storage space in the basement,” Michael said. “And if you’ve got some pieces of furniture that you really like, we can find a place for them in the house. I don’t want you to feel like a guest.”

“Well, technically I will be a guest, since I’m just staying until I find a new place,” I reminded him. “But the truth is, most of my furniture is pretty crappy. It’s not worth the cost to keep moving it from apartment to apartment so I might use this move as an excuse to finally get rid of some things.”

“One of the empty bedrooms is set up for guests, with a bed and a dresser, so you’re welcome to use that if you prefer.”

I shook my head. “Nah, the one thing I have that’s younger than me is my bed, but I appreciate the offer.”

He gave me a long look. “Not to be nosy, but do you move a lot?”

I shrugged. “It’s not that I move a lot on purpose, but I have this uncanny ability to pick an apartment that’s about to be sold. Or have a tree fall on it. Or be seized by the government for eminent domain. Or burn down.”

“Are you joking?” Michael asked.

I shook my head. “If you’re trying to get rid of any apartment buildings, I’m your girl. I just need to live there for a year or two and your pesky building will be gone.”

“Well, fortunately I only own a floor of my building, so I think I’m safe.”

The server came and Michael and I ordered some food.

“Do you want another martini?” he asked, nodding at my empty glass.

“No thanks, two is my limit,” I said. “I’ll switch to water.”

“Fair enough. Do you need help moving on Saturday?”

I gave him a look of exasperation. “You’re already letting me move in with you, even though we’re practically strangers, you’ve done enough. But thank you.”

“I don’t mind helping,” he said mildly.

My phone beeped, and I read the message with a smirk.

“It’s okay, my brother-in-law’s brothers are in town next weekend and my sister already asked if I had something I needed help with so they don’t drive her crazy all weekend. I’m going to put them to work moving my stuff.” I pointed at my phone. “She just confirmed that they’re down to help me.”

“How many are there?” he asked.

“Well Jayden – that’s my brother-in-law – has three brothers, plus wherever the four of them go, their sister’s husband usually comes too because they’re all really tight, so I’ll have lots of manpower.”

“Okay then,” he said, sliding his phone out of his shirt pocket. “Let’s exchange phone numbers then so we can coordinate the details.”