What You Need(11)
“I work for Lund Industries, so I know about the entire family because that’s part of my job,” I retorted. “His sister, Annika, is in the PR division of Lund, his brother Walker does something in construction, and his other brother, Jensen, plays for the Vikings.”
Kiley’s eyes widened. “No shit? Jens ‘The Rocket’ Lund is his brother?”
“I didn’t know you were a football fan.”
“I wasn’t until he started playing. Man. Have you seen The Rocket’s ass in his football pants? It really emphasizes his Tight End position. He shoulda got the Heisman for that alone.”
I barely resisted smacking myself in the forehead. But then I saw Jailbait lean back in her chair, with her arms crossed over her chest. Mr. CFO ran his hand through his hair. Neither of them looked like they were having a good time.
Why that caused a spark of happiness made no sense.
Jailbait stood, grabbed her beer and headed to the sushi station.
“Hello?” Kiley snapped her finger in front of my face.
“Sorry.” I refocused on my friend. “Before I got distracted by the orgasm generator”—I grinned at her—“you were telling me about your newest project.”
“I was telling you about it because I need your help.” Kiley set down her chopsticks, serious face in place. “One of the centers my kids attend got closed down because of drug activity. While I’m glad the cops are following through with their promise to get rid of the troublemakers, it feels like these kids are being punished. So if they’ve got nowhere to go on Saturday, and nothing productive to do, what do you think will happen to them?”
My roommate was passionate about “her” kids and the work she does with them. That was part of the reason I adored her, since it took a special person to see the potential in kids who couldn’t count on family to raise them. “They become even more at risk.”
“Exactly. A couple of them have already been in juvenile more than once.”
“How can I help?”
“Once we nail down a place to have an activity outside of their neighborhood, I’d love it if you’d hang out with them. If they give you shit, you can share your success story.”
Success story. Oh, it was a helluva story, all right. I was still working on the success part. “You let me know when and where.”
Kiley squeezed my hand. “You’re such an awesome person, Lennox. I’m so glad you answered my Craigslist ad.”
“Me too.” My last year of school my roommate had flaked out on me and decided spontaneously to move to Iowa with her boyfriend. Since the apartment was in her name and the lease was up, I’d been pretty much screwed. Even though the place had been a total dive, it’d still cost more money each month than I could swing alone. And I would’ve had to go through an entire approval process to take over the lease, in addition to forking over first and last month’s rent. So I’d had no choice but to look for a new living arrangement.
I’d always gotten a kick out of reading the City Pages ads for roommates, but those “Must love craft beer and quinoa” roommate ads were less funny when I needed a place to stay. On a whim I checked Craigslist and saw Kiley’s ad for a roommate to share a house. The private bathroom and second-floor sitting area trumped the requirement for snow shoveling and summer yard maintenance. I’d shown up in the area known as Dinkytown and fallen in love with the older house.
The first month Kiley and I were respectful of each other’s spaces. She’d bought the house after her sister assured her that she’d pay half the mortgage—then she’d left her high and dry. Making the mortgage payment on her own had proven difficult since she was just starting out as a social worker. But our polite distance around each other changed the night she’d come home from work a complete mess after one of the kids in her program had been killed in a drug deal gone bad. Problem was, the kid wasn’t buying or selling drugs; he’d been walking his little sister home from the playground because they lived in a dangerous area, and he ended up with a bullet to the chest when a gun accidentally went off.
That night she and I downed a bottle of wine, swapped life stories and then started hanging out regularly. What I loved most about Kiley was that she didn’t need a man to validate her. So many women my age felt like failures if they didn’t have a boyfriend, whereas Kiley and I were open to a relationship if the right guy came along, but we were both focused on our careers. I loved that we were beyond the pressure of heading out to the meat market bars every weekend in hopes of a hookup.