Objects of My Affection Read Online Free PDF Page A

I’m trying to yank myself upright, only my legs keep tangling up against the guy, who is sitting on the end of the couch, eating beef jerky from a bag.
    â€œMove already!” I snap, pushing at him with my feet.
    Another man’s voice: “Gee, somebody’s cranky when she wakes up.”
    â€œWhat the—” I practically fly to a standing position. My hands feel around on my body to see if I can tell if I’ve been groped. My clothes appear to be intact. “What are you doing in here?”
    The owner of the second voice is sitting with his back propped up against the wall, gnawing on a giant pita sandwich (which explains the smell). They’re both youngish, midtwenties I’d guess, tatted up—one of them sporting muttonchops and the other that weird strip of chin hair as if he missed a spot shaving.
    Muttonchops says, “You that chick they hired?”
    I glare at him. “You have no right to be here. This happens to be my office now.”
    â€œSo I’ll take that as a yes.”
    A toilet flushes and a third guy walks out of the bungalow’s small bathroom. I whip around to him. “You didn’t wash your hands ?”
    He gives me that deer-in-the-headlights look. “Uh … yes, I did.”
    â€œYou did not! I didn’t hear water running!”
    â€œUm, okay, well, I can—”
    â€œNo,” I say, sensing my hysteria rising. “It’s too late now. All of you get out. In fact, even better, where is your supervisor? He ought to hear how”—I narrow my eyes at the guy on the couch, who is chuckling—“his workers find it so funny to sneak up on innocent women while they’re resting and do God knows what. ”
    â€œWhoa, hey, babe, chill.”
    As if I’m going to take that from a guy with filthy hands. “I will not chill. I—”
    The bungalow door opens, and another guy walks in, this one scribbling on a clipboard he’s holding. He must be the one in charge. “Oh, hey, you’re awake, cool,” he says when he glances up.
    â€œNo, it is not,” I say. “It is not the slightest bit cool to wake up surrounded by a bunch of … of …”
    He looks at the others while I search for a word besides hooligans. “You were in here while she was sleeping?” They don’t answer, and he says to me, “I’m sorry. Sometimes they’re idiots. Unfortunately, they’re also my cousins and they work for me. By the way, I’m Niko Pavlopoulos—and you must be Lucy.”
    He extends a hand for me to shake, which I reluctantly accept. Niko is about the same age as the others, but at least he doesn’t sport that fresh-from-prison look that they do. In fact, he has a nice face … good brows, and the kind of lashes that make the ladies grumble what a waste they are on a man.
    â€œThey scared me half to death,” I say, not entirely ready to let go of my fight.
    Niko tips his head toward the door. “Guys … out. I picked up thepipes for the basement. Start on that.” Surprisingly, they gather up their food and cheerfully file out.
    After they’re gone, I drop back down onto the couch. “Basement,” I say, groaning, “I forgot about the basement. I’ll bet it’s a nightmare down there.”
    â€œYou’re in luck. Pipes busted—that’s why Will brought us on in the first place. Water damage was so bad, we had to haul everything straight to a Dumpster. Even then, Marva was trying to stop us, tell my guys it wasn’t wrecked that bad.” Niko settles onto the arm of the couch. “That’s why I’m so glad you’re here. Somebody needs to get this project moving.”
    I don’t sense sarcasm from him, even though moments ago I’d been caught drooling into a couch cushion. “I’m usually more a woman of action than you saw here today,” I say, sheepish.
    â€œNo