LITMIR.BIZ

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She’s only known him a few months. How can she be so sure?”

      “She just is. Anyway, we were talking, and she told me that he’d recently lost his cleaning lady. He was asking the staff for recommendations.”

      None of this was computing so far. “I did have a cleaning lady, but she’s very in demand. I’m sure she’s filled my slot by—”

      “That’s not it, Lauren. We aren’t looking for a cleaning service. We are the cleaning service.”

      I still didn’t get it.

      “Here’s the plan. We go into Adam’s condo every two weeks. We find out what he’s reading, what movies he’s rented, his favorite flavor of ice cream. Then Ava uses this information to convince him that they’re perfect soul mates.”

      Erin leaned back on her stool and gave a satisfied smile.

      “That’s a perfect plan?”

      “What don’t you like about it?”

      “Well, first off…who cleans Adam’s condo?”

      “We do.”

      “You mean, I do.”

      “Well, yeah, but you get to keep the extra hundred bucks. See, that’s the beauty of this arrangement. Ava pays us to get the goods on Adam. And Adam pays us to clean.”

      So I wasn’t really a private investigator. I was a glorified maid. On the positive side, at least I knew how to vacuum and clean toilets.

      “But it all seems so…”

      “Creative?”

      “I was thinking illegal, actually.”

      “You worry too much, Lauren. This is the perfect gig. And it’s all yours. Adam wants his place cleaned on Tuesday afternoon and I’ve already got a regular job scheduled for that time.”

      Oh, lucky me.

      “Keep on the lookout for signs of a regular girlfriend. According to Ava, he’s never mentioned one at the office, but you never know.”

      “By signs you mean women’s clothing, that sort of thing?”

      “Yeah. Check for an extra toothbrush, women’s toiletries, the regular girlie stuff.”

      “And when I’m done?”

      “Write up a report. Ava will want to pick it up in person. She has roommates and we obviously can’t send it to the office. Wouldn’t want this stuff in the wrong hands.”

      Definitely not. Wouldn’t want the wrong girl becoming the dentist’s soul mate.

      “Okay, you’re set.” Erin tossed a toonie on the counter for her coffee. Halfway to the door, she stopped and looked back at me. “You don’t have to do this. I could tell Ava I couldn’t fit her in.”

      I was tempted to tell her to do just that. Then my eyes fell on the broken alarm clock on the counter. I thought about the gap in my budget between expenditures and income. “I’m okay with it.”

      “Good. You’ll do fine.” Erin grinned. “Though I’ve got to admit I’m having a hard time picturing you cleaning someone else’s toilet.”

      I grimaced while she laughed at me. That was actually the only part of the job I didn’t object to. I wondered how Ava was going to feel ten years from now when she was married to a man she had nothing in common with.

      Once Erin had left, I dug out the change to cover my own cup of coffee. As I dumped it on the counter, Murphy walked up from behind me.

      “Is it broken?” He picked the alarm clock off the counter and looked it over.

      “My daughter says it is. I thought maybe at the hardware store Denny could give me the name of someone—”

      “You’ll end up getting charged enough money to buy a new one.”

      Yes. He was probably right. I’d have to use part of the extra hundred dollars I was going to earn this afternoon to buy a replacement. I held out my hand to take it back, but Murphy ignored me.

      “Our garbage dumps are full enough. Leave this with me and I’ll take a look at it. It’s probably something simple.”

      “But—” Why would he offer to do something like this? I really hadn’t thought he liked me at all. Was it possible he truly was offering out of concern for the environment? “Thank you. I’ll pay you for your time.”

      “Yeah? I wouldn’t make that offer if I was you.” He waved a hand at me. “Now get out of here. I’ve got customers waiting for that stool.”

      He didn’t, the place was half-empty, but I left as requested.

      At twelve-thirty, I took the bus to the subway and rode to the St. George stop. When we’d first moved to Dovercourt Village, I hadn’t taken the subway in years and had forgotten that the concept of personal space was meaningless on public transport. Now I was becoming accustomed to the smell of strangers again, and the distinction between the sway of the bus versus the rocking motion of the subway.

      The truly great thing about transit, however, was never needing to worry about finding a parking space or encountering a snarl in traffic. When I emerged from the subway station, cars were at a standstill on both sides of the street. I blithely walked past the jam and headed north to the dentist’s condo.

      With Erin’s piece of paper in hand, I stopped in front of an elegant stucco building and consulted the address again.

      Yes, this was the right place.

      I followed the brick path to the front security door. A well-dressed woman exiting the complex gave me a frown, then paused to make sure the door had closed completely before leaving me on the stoop.

      I made a show of pulling out my keys. She glared.

      “I’m the new cleaning lady for unit two.”

      Clearly she didn’t believe me. I tucked my pearls back under the cotton T-shirt I’d worn for the gig, then slipped my key into the lock, praying it would work.

      It did.

      Ironically, just as I’d proven I had a legitimate reason to be here, I felt like the criminal that woman had obviously thought I might be.

      This was so crazy. I was about to enter the house of a perfect stranger.

      Cleaning ladies do it all the time.

      Yes, but cleaning ladies don’t check for extra toothbrushes. They don’t make lists of their client’s reading materials and examine the contents of their kitchen cupboards. At least, they aren’t supposed to.

      So you’re a snoopy cleaning lady. There’s no law against snooping.

      Okay, technically I wasn’t breaking the law. But ethically speaking, I was still about to do something wrong.

      If you’re going to be a wuss about this, maybe you should look for a different job.

      I let the door close behind me. I was inside.

      The building’s foyer was spotless and fortunately deserted. I followed the hallway to the left. Adam’s unit was the second one. As I let myself in, I heard a door farther down the hall open, then shut again.

      A nosy neighbor? I closed Adam’s door behind me with relief.

      The hardest part was over. At least I didn’t have to worry that anyone was watching me in here.

      I surveyed the foyer, which was surprisingly tidy for a single man living on his own. All the coats were hung in the closet. A gym bag sat on a footstool next to an umbrella rack. Shoes were organized in a neat line on the floor under the jackets.

      At least he was neat. But then, he was a dentist—what did I expect?

      The rest

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