8 | RAGING CRAVINGS
When Zoya finished with the Ark boxes and returned to the house, she had a message waiting from Foster. They'd picked up a body, and the family wanted a quick burial, so she'd need to work on Sunday. At least it'd get her away from Roman. She'd avoided the subject, and he'd not mentioned kicking her out again, which she attributed to the cooking. He'd already eaten half the pie. Even without Mariana's help, or having lived with Charamel, Zoya could tell just from the soiled pages of the recipe book, which selections were favorites.
She'd watched him drive away in the new truck and assumed he'd return before dinner.
The men who came to the house today and construction plans she'd seen on the bedside table told her there was about to be more activity than she wanted. But if she complained, he might kick her out, meals or no meals. Dealing with the mess and strangers would be a challenge, but she had no choice.
After locking her bedroom door, she pulled the paint can from behind the chair. More cooking meant more groceries. She'd done a meal-plan and market list for the next two weeks. She removed the lid and peered inside. Her family picture had always been on top, but now Dad was first. An odd feeling crawled up her spine. Had Roman been in her room and found her hiding place? He had no right. This was her stuff. She counted the bundles. All there. She was just being paranoid.
But a new location might be in order in case he did search. Under the mattress? No. He'd look there for sure. She stepped to the bathroom. The Catch had an episode where drug dealers hid their goods in a plastic bag immersed in the toilet tank. The thought made her queasy. She opened the cabinet below the sink and spied a box of tampons. He'd never check there. She made the transfer, placed the remaining tampons on top, and slid the box back in its spot.
If he had snooped, then why hadn't he said something? Her heart hammered. What if he thought the money was stolen and had gone to the police? No. If so, they would have already been here. Maybe he was waiting. But for what? Her mind raced.
The sound of a car door got her attention. She peeked out the window. He was back earlier than expected. Before he came in, she was in the kitchen. "Nice truck."
"Thanks."
She shoved a paper toward him. "Here's a list of meals. If there's anything special you want me to add, tell me so I can get the ingredients."
He barely looked at the sheet. "I need a drink."
From the cabinet he took whiskey and poured into a glass she already had sitting out. Drink in one hand and the bottle in the other, he walked to the back porch, sat, and propped his feet onto the railing. He stayed that way until she called him for dinner.
Something was going on with him, but she didn't know what. He didn't speak during the meal and she wanted to tell him she knew he'd been poking around in her room, but his mood warned it wasn't a good idea.
An hour later, he left again, and after cleaning the kitchen, securing the cats, she walked through the woods to Mariana's house. Twilight winked through the trees, and as she drew closer to the workshop, a pleasant odor drifted to her.
Soap molds covered the table where Mariana and Lemon were busy at work, removing and stacking the bars. When the door opened, Mariana looked up.
"How do you like this scent?"
Zoya inhaled and smiled. "I like it. It's new isn't it?"
"Yeah. The idea came in the middle of the night. I'm adding a men's line with aphrodisiac fragrances. Sandalwood and vanilla. Cedar and honey. And here's the biggie... cinnamon. Supposedly, it was used by the Queen of Sheba in her seduction of King Solomon. I'm calling the selection, Stud Suds. What do you think?"
Before she could answer, Lemon chimed in. "I love it! The name conjures all sorts of results without any advertising. I mean, if a guy's already a stud, will it make him more of one? If he's a nerd, will the soap turn him into a stud hammer?" She flapped her hands in the air as if directing the scent to her nose. "Holy hell. Even if it doesn't, he'll smell good enough to eat, or at least, lick."
Mariana rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and picked up a sheet of paper. "I'm thinking it might be good to categorize the soaps instead of just individual selections. I'll still have those but I'll also do Baby Bubbles, with light, airy fragrances and maybe Sexy Scents for females."
Lemon stacked empty molds and carried them to a nearby rack. "If you come up with a bar that smells like cash and a Corvette, you'll have women going wild!"
"Roman got a new truck," Zoya said.
Lemon blinked. "That makes me think - since this is Louisiana, I may need to change my suggestion to cash and truck. And don't leave the younger kids out. You can do a line called Teenage Temptations. I bet that'd be a big seller."
"That or Raging Cravings."
Mariana and Lemon stared at Zoya, then laughed.
"Holy hell! Did you make a joke?"
Zoya shrugged. "I don't know. Did I?"
Mariana grinned. "I think you did, and it was a good one. Speaking of Roman, how's it going with him?"
"He brought a girl home."
"Really? I didn't think he'd been in town long enough to meet anybody, but after what you told me, I guess he found one."
Lemon cocked her head. "Told you what?"
"Roman tried to scare Zoya into leaving by telling her he was horny." Mariana giggled. "I told her to bake him a pie."
"And I did. He ate almost all of it. He's been looking around in my room. Should I say something?"
"Is anything missing?"
"No."
"Then maybe you shouldn't bring it up. You're hanging by a thread getting to stay there. He may have done it to start an argument. Then it'd be easier for him to kick you out." Mariana wiped the countertop, raking soap shavings into the trash can. "Remember, he just got out of prison and probably doesn't trust anyone, and since you were a big surprise, you're at the top of that list. He's not.." Mariana turned around to look her in the eye. "He's not a bad guy. I was friends with his sister. He raised her, would do anything for her. He's always taken care of people he cared about. He's been burned, and he's putting up this asshole front of his, and he does it well."
"I saw construction plans in his room. He's building onto the house. Yesterday, a plumber and electrician came. I don't want all those strange people coming and going, and I hope he doesn't keep finding women."
Lemon laughed. "You make it sound like he's hunting Easter eggs."
"Again, he may be doing this to make you want to leave." Mariana removed her apron, folded it and put it under the counter. "Y'all stay as long as you like but Andrew is picking me up in an hour, so I've got to get ready."
"I've got to go, too." Lemon pulled photos from her purse and handed them to Zoya. "I took some shots of my latest creations. Thought they might help you get an idea of the products I have planned. No hurry. I'm just in the beginning stages. See you later."
After Lemon left, Zoya gave Mariana the grocery list and money. "I hate to ask you to shop again this soon, but if I cook every day, I'll need more things."
"I don't mind a bit. I'll get them for you tomorrow."
"Thank you."
"You're more than welcome."
Once Zoya was alone, she worked on new drawings for her friend's latest brainstorm. Baby Bubbles came easily. She drew fledglings sitting in an ark-shaped bubble bath. Mariana wanted to play up the Arcadia aspect of the business. The original design of the goat in the tub would be the logo shown on the back of each wrapper.
She spread Lemon's pictures on the table. Besides the beer cap jewelry, she'd added the same selections using shell casings, with colored crystals in the center of each one. Bracelets, necklaces, rings made from different calibers. Zoya couldn't believe it. They were pretty.
It was ten o'clock by the time she headed back home, and when the old house came into view, Roman's truck sat in the drive with the same car from the night before parked behind it. Zoya's stomach somersaulted. Why couldn't she take him to her house instead of coming here?
Zoya spun around and went back to Mariana's to sleep in the barn. She raked fresh hay into a pile, then curled into it. Good thing she wasn't allergic. Getting settled, she thought about Roman and what she should do. As much as she hated her situation, she didn't see an alternative—unless...they traded bedrooms. That way, he and his guests would have access to the bathroom. With that final thought, she drifted to sleep.
The next morning, she woke early and hoped the visitor had left. If not, Zoya would come back here, shower, and borrow something to wear.
She took her time walking through the woods and wished the treehouse had a view of the place, that way she wouldn't have to go all the way home before she knew if the coast was clear. Just as she feared, the woman's car was still in the drive. Zoya took a deep breath and as she started to leave, the stranger came out.
She drove away and Zoya thanked her stars she'd not had to listen to the wails and moans of the couple. She eased the door open and tiptoed inside. No need to wake the sleeping giant.
After a quick bath, she dressed for the day, took care of the cats, and wrote a note. She got the peanut butter from the pantry and the jelly from the fridge. Lost in thought, she didn't hear her roommate until he spoke.
"What the hell are you doing?"
She jerked upright. "Making a sandwich."
"Are you sure, because I've been standing here five minutes and with you bobbing up and down, you look like you're dancing."
"I'm checking to make sure the layers are even and all the way to the edge of the bread." This was her opportunity to use her word of the day. "Peanut butter is so unctuous. That means smooth and greasy."
He walked to stand next to her. "No shit. Well, it looks okay to me."
She slid the knife along the crust. "No, see that white strip." Gliding the blade across the filling, she pushed it to the outer border. "Now, I'm ready for the jelly." She spooned out a glob and swirled it. After a full minute of smearing grape from one side to the other, she backed away, leaned forward until she had it at eye level, and focused like surveying a piece of land. Satisfied with the results, she pressed the two pieces together, cut them in half, and put them in a sandwich bag.
He stepped away. "Where were you last night?"
"Mariana's. Is that woman your girlfriend?"
He chuckled. "Not hardly."
"Well, if you're going to keep bringing women here, I think we should trade rooms."
"An even better idea is you getting your own place."
"Not just rooms. Furniture, too. Maybe some of those men you have coming will help."
"I'm sure I can get them to help load your stuff."
"Why would they do that? I live here."
"Yeah, about that. Went to the bank yesterday and see you've continued to pay rent each month, but you know what happens when you get a new landlord."
She turned to face him. "What?"
"Rent goes up. Starting next month, it doubles."
She swallowed hard. Not paranoia. He knew about the money.
Guess Roman is still trying to get rid of his unwanted housemate.
TEASER: "Well, fuck me. Didn't know I had to alphabetize."
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