Staring up at the large warehouse-type building, I did a mental recap of why I NEEDED this to work out.

Yes, I've been staying at a pretty cheap hotel this past week, but it was starting to eat into my savings. If I wasn't able to find somewhere else to stay, I was going to end up homeless on the streets of Paris. Not really why I wanted to come here.

But at least this rental seemed legit. When Henri told me about the deal, I thought it was too good to be true. So, after I sent the email requesting to come and see it, I asked Henri for a few more questions.

He explained to me that it was owned by some wealthy businessman who was away a lot. He was well known and well liked around the city. And apparently, he had a studio-type loft that he was willing to rent for a decent price. Thankfully, it was a price I could afford.

I just hoped he liked me enough to let me rent it. To be honest, I wasn't the best applicant in the world. It was a little hard to explain to someone that I ran all the way here—well, flew—from the US to escape my tragic reality. I had no job. No references. I knew absolutely no one here.

Yeah, I doubted he was going to approve shit for me.

I actually might end up homeless on the streets of Paris.

Pushing those thoughts away from my mind, I opened the large door to the warehouse and went inside. It was actually pretty nice. It reminded me of an art studio. There were blank canvases leaning against one wall and an easel in the far corner. Maybe the owner was some kind of art dealer or something.

Glancing around the vast space, I saw a note taped to the wall beside the stairs: Loft For Rent - 2nd Floor

I ascended the stairs, excited and hopeful there was a possibility my luck would change and that this guy would take pity on me or something. I really didn't have any other option. I only paid for two more days at my hotel.

Finally getting to the top, I took a look around. The loft was quite large for a studio. Even though there was a door, there were partisans spread out that gave it some extra privacy. There was a king-sized bed by the window with a nightstand beside it. On the far wall was a small kitchenette area with a table and two chairs. There was a five-drawer dresser. No closet. And I assumed the door to the right was the bathroom.

Not really what I was used to, but it was perfect for what I needed. And the huge floor to ceiling window that overlooked the city wasn't a bad bonus either. I glanced at my watch. Where the hell was this guy? Good luck my ass. He was probably going to be a no-show. Or maybe—

"Well, well, well. As I live and breathe."

Chills shot down my spine when I heard that voice. His voice. My eyes slid shut and I mentally cursed out the gods of fate.

"If this isn't serendipity, I don't know what is." Brief pause. "Are you going to actually acknowledge me or what?"

Finally, I turned around to face him...and instantly regretted it. He looked even better than I allowed myself to remember. His hair was longer. His smile was way more charming now than before. And those eyes...

"Ollie," I said finally. "I didn't...you were supposed...what are you doing here?"

"Jeez, Lovette. You always this articulate?"

Aside from the sudden mess I was in, I was so relieved that he called me by my last name this time. I rather him call me that than Guinevere. Hearing him use my real name did things to my body. Things I didn't need to remember or think about right now. Especially with him so close.

I glanced at the bed again. Shit. I really needed to get out of here.

"What are you doing here?" I snapped even though I knew it was a stupid question. And one that I just asked him. But I didn't know what else to say.

"I'm pretty sure we both know why I'm here," he quipped. "Question is...why are you here?"

A sharp pain pierced my heart. But I refused to let myself think about the truth that I was running from right now. The reality that I wanted nothing to do with anymore.

"The why of it doesn't matter," I replied. "All you need to know is that I need to rent this space. So where is the guy I need to talk to about that?"

Ollie leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and his feet at the ankles. "You're looking at him."

My eyes darted around the loft. "You own this? I thought you were a painter."

"I am a painter. And I'm not the owner," he clarified. "I work for him. He's away on business and asked me to interview all the applicants for this loft."

"So, it's up to you whether or not I have a place to live?" I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. What I said was going to have Ollie asking me questions. Questions that I had no interest in answering. "Ignore what I said." I turned and headed for the stairs. "I'm just gonna go."

Serendipity. Of course, he would call it that. To me, this was the complete opposite of serendipity. It was unserendipity. And I was just going to have to figure something else out. Maybe I could rent a cheaper hotel. Or maybe someone had a room for rent or something.

Or I could call that creeper back. I was desperate.

Really, really desperate.

"Jamie, wait."

I stopped instantly. Dammit. My body and my brain were definitely not on the same page where Ollie was concerned. Slowly I turned towards him and waited to see what he was going to say so I could get the hell out of here.

He pushed himself off the wall and took a few steps in my direction. His concerned expression had me regretting that I ever heard about this loft for rent in the first place. Or decided that Paris was the place I would be running away to. I should have known he would be here. He was a painter for crying out loud.

Ollie stopped in front of me and reached into his pocket to fish something out. "Here you go."

Looking down I saw a set of keys in his hand. "What's that?"

There was that sexy half-smirk of his again. The one I saw many times the night of Harper's wedding. "They're called keys, Lovette. They open doors and locks and stuff."

"I know that, Ollie. Why are you giving them to me?"

"You need a place to stay, right? The loft is yours."

I eyed the keys. I really wanted to snatch them from his hand and go check out of that horrible hotel I was staying in, but it wasn't that simple. "You didn't even check if I could afford this place or ask me any questions."

He shrugged one shoulder. "I trust you. It's all yours."

After a brief hesitation, I took the keys and stared at them. This felt way too easy. But I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not when my other options were to live in a place with the creepiest landlord in the history of landlords.

"Thank you," I murmured.

"No problem," he said before heading towards the stairs. "Rent is due on the first of the month. It's a month to month basis, so you can leave whenever. All utilities included."

I nodded absently before something occurred to me. "Wait! How do I pay the owner? Will he be back soon?"

Ollie was halfway down the stairs when he stopped to look back at me over his shoulder. "You pay me, then I'll give it to him when he returns."

"How will I get a hold of you? You know...to give you rent."

That all too familiar smirk of his had me regretting my question and fearing his answer.

"I live downstairs, Jamie. There's a master bedroom in the back of the studio." Descending the stairs, he called out, "If you need anything, you know where to find me. And by the way, Lovette...you look good."

Once Ollie was out of my line of sight, I finally let myself freak out a little. I was glad that I had a place to live, but this was not a part of my running away plan. I was supposed to be here alone. Away from people that I knew while I tried to figure things out.

Me and Ollie living in the same building with only a set of stairs separating us? This was not good. Very, very, very not good.

***

On the contrary, Jamie...I think it's a VERY good thing!

xoxo