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CARSON
It’s hotter than hell out here, and it’s the middle of the night. How had I gone from a swank air-conditioned penthouse to homeless and poor in a matter of hours?
Oh yeah, my piece of shit ex-best friend and business partner cheated on me with my own lying girlfriend.
They deserve each other. Fucking behind my back and laughing about it. But really, despite losing Denise, and despite the betrayal of my best friend, what hurts even worse is losing our prospective business.
Kyle and I were flipping houses together. We’d just landed a big one—the old Devereaux mansion on the edge of town. The place oozes southern charm—at least from the outside. On the inside, it’s a whole different story. Suffice it to say, the place has been left for dead.
I’d been out of town when Kyle made the deal, but I know it needs work. Lots of work. It’s perfect—and I have to admit, a house I had my eye on for a while. Once we got this under our belt, we’d have something to show other clients—a completed masterpiece that’d make everyone want our business.
Of course, that was until Kyle made the deal behind my back and negotiated payment without me knowing. Without putting my name on any sort of contract.
Which means all the money is going to him. Which means I don’t have a job.
And I don’t have a girlfriend, either. She didn’t exactly kick me out, but she told me Kyle is moving in—and as I was seeing red when I discovered their betrayal, the last thing I wanted to do was stay and hash out who gets what.
I grabbed a duffel bag, shoved it full of clothes, my laptop and other electronics, and got the hell out of there. It’s too hot in the city anyway.
But several blocks out of town, it still feels sticky. Annoying.
I don’t know what makes me drive this way, but within minutes, I’m parked in front of the Devereaux house. The lot it sits on is a decent size. But it’s full of overgrown bushes and weeds and trees that are drooping so low, their leaves brush the ground.
Like an abandoned cemetery. And the house is the tomb.
Shit. I was really looking forward to working on this place. Kyle is more businessman—which was why I let him make the deals—and I’m hands-on. I like getting in there in the thick of it all, working up a sweat and making something old new again.
I would have scooped up this house on my own if I’d had the money.
I check the time. One a.m. And I have nowhere to go. My family lives several hours north, and they’re asleep anyway.
I look to the house again. Kyle said the woman wasn’t going to be by anytime soon. She had a family function or something like that—and the plan wasn’t to get started until later in the week at the earliest.
Which means the house is empty.
No one will know if I go inside for a bit. Maybe take a nap. Maybe even stay for a day until I have a plan.
I tap my fingers against the steering wheel, debating. It’s breaking and entering what I’m thinking of doing here. But no one is going to know. And it’s not like I’m stealing anything or damaging the place. I’m just sleeping there and then leaving things right how I found them.
Decision made, I pull the car around to the alleyway in back and then park down another several feet. It’s hidden back here so odds are no one will ever see the car, let alone link it to someone squatting in the Devereaux mansion.
Grabbing my duffel bag, I jog toward the house and sneak through the rusted gate in the back. It needs to be replaced because it takes me all of two seconds to jimmy off one of the metal bars to get through.
There’s a screened-in porch on back and that’s just as easy to get into considering the screens are falling apart. Once I’m inside, I pull out my small tool kit to get into the door, but I find it’s unlocked.
Shaking my head, I step inside. The woman who bought this place—what’s her name? Lizzy? Izzy? She’s really going to have to get better security. And some new landscaping in the backyard is a good idea. Also—
I shove aside that train of thought. It’s not my problem because this isn’t my place. I’m not helping out here anymore because that fucker Kyle screwed me over.
Twice.
“Damn it,” I hiss in the darkness when my shin knocks into something hard. The stove.
What the hell is a stove doing in the middle of the kitchen? Shit. This place needs way more work than I thought.
Kyle has no idea what he’s in for.
I sneeze and curse again, but the idea almost makes me feel better. Kyle is in this for the money, but he lost his most important asset.
Me.
I’ve been fixing up houses since I was a kid. I know my way around every single room you could set me in, and then some. I can do electrical, duct work, install a damn water heater and furnace. You name it, I have experience.
And what does Kyle have?
My ex-girlfriend, sure. And the house and client of our dreams. But who’s going to do all the heavy lifting?
I wander farther into the house until it gets so dark I have to pull out my flashlight. No worries. So, I had a shitty day. I’ll get back on my feet. I have a few leads, a few small jobs I can do and I’ll work on landing a big one just like this house.
If Kyle can do it, so can I.
And then we’ll see who starts landing the big jobs. Then we’ll see who comes out on top.
I settle for a dusty pile of sheets by the front window. That way I’ll be able to see headlights if someone pulls up, or hear the door if someone tries to come in.
Just for tonight.
And then…
I sneeze again and frown.
And then…I’ll start over.