Roommate Wanted (Sharing Space #1) Read Online Free PDF

Don't tell me you couldn't fix it!"
     
    "Fix what?” Lawrence and the guy in my apartment both asked.  
     
    "The shower! Mr. Tucci said you knew what you were doing. It's been running all day and... Lawrence?"
     
    "Lawrence?” questioned the plumber.
     
    "Lawrence, what do you want?  We have nothing to say to each other."
     
    "Come on, Chloe.  I knew you'd be sour so I thought I'd give you a day or so to calm down before I explained."
     
    "Oh, you mean there's an explanation as to why I caught you in bed with some girl when you were supposed to be home with the flu?"
     
    "I never said I had the flu."
     
    "Lawrence, I really don't have time for this mess. I have the plumber here telling me he can't fix my shower and I'm expecting a lady here any minute to view the apartment. Your lies will have to wait."
     
    "I'm not the plumber,” said the plumber.
     
    "Look, Lou, Mr. Tucci said... Wait. What?”
     
    "I'm not the plumber. I'm not a plumber. I'm here to see the apartment."
     
    "You are?"
     
    "He is?” asked Lawrence. 
     
    "Shut up, Lawrence. Listen, there must be some mistake. Did Mr. Tucci send you? He told me I could try and find a roommate on my own first. Look, I have a four o'clock coming in any second now. Pat Murphy."
     
    "I'm Patrick Murphy,” said the plumber.
     
     
     
     

Chapter Three
    Sexist Much?
    Chloe
     
    I immediately hung up the phone. "You're a woman. I mean, Pat Murphy is a woman."
     
    The man in my foyer smiled. "Well, I've been called many things, but never that."
     
    The phone rang. I ignored it. 
     
    "It's just that…” I cocked my head to the side. "Didn't you read the ad? It said single female seeking roommate." 
     
    He smiled again and this time I noticed he had deep dimples. "Yes, but it didn't say seeking female roommate." He had a point.  I just shook my head. The phone stopped ringing. I was at a loss for words. Thankfully, I was saved from having to answer when there was yet another knock at the door. I realized that a part of me was in denial over this mix-up when I answered the door, as I still expected to see a woman smiling at me and saying she was Pat Murphy. Instead, a dead-ringer for Joe Pesci greeted me.
     
    "You Chloe?” asked a man who was so obviously Lou, the plumber.
     
    "Yes, come on in. It's down the hall, first door on your right."
     
    Lou nodded in Patrick's direction and headed towards the bathroom. I sighed and gestured for Patrick to follow me into the living room, then offered him a seat, which he took on the couch. I wheeled on him suddenly and asked, "Why is your email address patmurphy-at-cybermail-dot-com?"
     
    "Patrick Murphy was taken."
     
    He had me there. I don't know why, but I was fishing to prove he had deliberately misled me into thinking Pat was Patricia—probably because I had just recently been lied to by another man. Patrick must have seen the little wheels turning in my head because then he said, "Listen, this obviously seems to be bothering you. In my defense, the ad didn't specify that you were looking for a female roommate. I'm really interested in the apartment, but if it's going to make you uncomfortable..." He let the sentence trail off. 
     
    I wasn't sure what my next move should be. My first instinct was to take him up on his offer and show him the door, but why?  It's true that I hadn't given much thought to living with a male roommate, but not because I was totally against it. It's just that it had never crossed my mind. I assumed only other single women would want to room with a single woman. Prehistoric thinking, but there it was. Even if I could get past the male thing, there was still the white thing. I had confessed to Myra that living with a white woman wouldn't pose a problem for me, but a white man?  Well, that's a horse of another color, or the same color, or... never mind. Am I willing to turn him away because of the color of his skin?  Did that make me a racist? 
     
    Hadn't I been