For Nick by Taylor Dean Read Free Book Online Page A

the time she opened the door to him on Friday night at seven-ten, when he said he’d be there at seven-thirty, she faced him with apprehension. They greeted each other and then stood in her doorway uncertainly. His eyes wandered around her apartment, taking everything in. He didn’t comment, in fact his face registered no response whatsoever and he was his usual ‘polite to a fault’ self.
    “You’re early. I’ll just be a few more minutes. Make yourself at home.” She cringed at the thought. There was no place to sit and be comfortable unless he wanted to lie down on the bed, and that was out of the question. “I just moved here. I sold my belongings before I moved. Guess you could say I’m starting over.” The pregnant pause that followed was filled with unasked questions. “I’ll just be in the bathroom, I mean, not using the bathroom, but getting ready to go, I mean…never mind.” Andie escaped to the safety of the tiniest lavatory known to mankind, wondering what was wrong with her. Her nerves were causing her to act like a bumbling idiot. Her thoughts turned to Zach. He looked good, impeccably dressed as always in black dress pants with a royal blue dress shirt, open at the neck. Instead of his usual suit coat, he wore a black leather jacket. She stared at herself in the mirror wishing she was dressed to match, but knowing it was useless. It is what it is.

    Zach was astounded to see that Andie lived in a one-room studio apartment about the size of his closet. She tried to act as if it didn’t bother her, but he knew it did. She’d stood, nervously, for several moments unsure of what to do or say and he wasn’t sure how to make her feel more at ease. He simply hid his reaction to her living conditions, but he had to admit, he was a little taken aback. This was unexpected. A lone, twin mattress was lying directly on the floor, neatly made with a cheap comforter. Her kitchen table was a cardboard box with a piece of unfinished material covering it as a makeshift tablecloth. A plastic vase with one fake flower graced the top of the table. One lonely chair sat next to the cardboard table. There was a CD player plugged in next to the bed, her only source of entertainment. Her closet door was ajar and he peeked in to see about twenty items on hangers, two pairs of shoes and a suitcase. That’s it.
    Her only luxury, it would appear, was the laptop computer sitting on her cardboard table. It was just barely closed, as if she’d hastily put it down. It was still on, the light creeping out from the edges. He nonchalantly lifted it up to take a peek. The screen boasted a huge picture of himself. Startled, he closed it quickly, feeling like a voyeur. She was about to marry him, it made sense for her to have a picture of him. He’d wonder about her if she hadn’t done a little research on him before agreeing to marry him, after all. Still, it made him wonder what she was thinking about as she looked upon his picture.
    So she lived frugally. Wasn’t that to be commended? It was just that, this wasn’t just frugal. This was ‘times are tough.’ Really tough. A pile of books lined the kitchen counter, all plastic covered and stamped with the name of the local library. Curious, he peeked into her kitchen cupboards. There was one jar of peanut butter, a box of crackers, and a loaf of bread. The rest were bare. The refrigerator held a jar of jelly and a gallon of milk. The counter held one bunch of bananas, some paper plates, cups, and napkins. There was nothing in the freezer.
    This gave him pause. It bothered him more than he cared to admit. He’d be sure and get a to-go box tonight and accidently leave it with her. He hated the thought of someone going hungry. No wonder she’d been willing to wait so long for her interview. It would appear that she was a bit down on her luck. Feeling disturbed, he sat down on her one chair so she wouldn’t catch him looking through her cupboards. The apartment was quite