My Roommate is a Billionaire

For three months, I thought my roommate was a soft little sweetheart.

Then she showed up at my door as a six-foot-three man holding a shopping bag the size of a toddler.

Is this enough? he said. I can grab more.

The bag was full of period pads.

Let me rewind.

Me: [Babe, there's braised beef in the fridge. Saved you a plate.]

Summer: [thanks.]

Me: [Babe, scarves were buy-one-get-one. One's yours.]

Summer: [okay.]

I babied her for weeks. She answered in three words or less, always with that little trailing dot-dot-dot, like she was swallowing something she couldn't quite say.

I thought it was shyness.

I thought she was a girl.

Then came the day my body declared war, and I texted the only person home.

Me: [BABE HELP do you have any overnight pads???]

Ten minutes later, someone knocked.

Not a sweet girl.

A man. Tall enough to fill the doorframe, cheekbones you could get hurt on, cheeks flushed pink like he'd run the whole way.

Holding my pads.

So somebody explain this to me.

How does a soft little roommate named Summer turn into a six-foot-three man?

Chapter 1

My last roommate was a biohazard in gym socks.

He left fruit in the fridge until it turned to soup and never cleaned it up. He piled sweaty socks in the bathroom sink and vanished into his room to game. We fought every other day.

So when he finally moved out, I begged my landlord for a girl this time.

She said yes on the spot.

A few days later, my new roommate added me. Her name was Summer. Her profile picture was a Samoyed grinning with its head tilted. Her one and only post was the same dog, flopped in the grass, tongue out, not a care in the world.

My heart melted on contact.

Nobody who loves a Samoyed that much could be a bad person. That's just science.

Everything after that checked out. Before she'd even moved in, she texted me.

Summer: [Hi. I'll be moving in Wednesday, sometime between 10 and 1. If I disturb you at all, please let me know.]

Now, me? Manners: questionable. I match whatever energy you give me. She was so polite it flipped a switch, and I went full golden retriever.

Me: [no worries babe!! I'll be at work, place is all yours, move in however you want!]

Summer: [okay. thank you.]

I didn't think much about the dots. Went back to work.

The day she moved in, the apartment didn't get messier. It got cleaner.

The crystal chandelier, dusted spotless. The one dead bulb, replaced. A new enamel vase in the corner, a loose spray of flowers in it, throwing scent every time the evening breeze came through.

The whole place looked warm. Lit from the inside.

Didn't even have to guess who'd done it.

Last time a roommate moved in, the living room was a crime scene of footprints and drywall dust, the rug wrecked, and take a wild guess who mopped. Me.

How was this one an actual angel?

I'd clearly been racking up good karma. The universe was finally cutting me a check.

I floated toward my room and found a gift box outside my door. A sticky note on top, handwriting clean and gorgeous.

[Hi. Happy to be your roommate. A little something to say so. Hope we get along. Signed, Summer.]

Inside was a candle. Sweet, long scent, like warm caramel.

I almost knocked to thank her in person, then clocked the time. Almost eleven, and I'd worked late. She was probably asleep.

So I texted.

Me: [BABE!! thank you for the gift.]

Me: [I LOVE this scent!! mwah mwah mwah]

Me: [here's to living together!]

A few minutes later:

Summer: [glad you like it.]

She wasn't done, though. The little "typing" popped up at the top of the screen.

And stayed.

For ten straight minutes it sat there, pulsing, while she typed and deleted, typed and deleted.

What could possibly be that hard to say?

I showered. When I came out, one new message was waiting. Sent three minutes ago.

Summer: [Small correction. We're not living together. We're roommates.]

Chapter 2

Our team finally wrapped a monster project, and the boss waved us off for a day.

So I bought out the grocery store and rolled up my sleeves to cook myself a feast.

Her Highness will now be served braised short ribs.

Her Highness will now be served a seafood tower.

Her Highness will now be served okay. I overdid it. Obviously.

I stood there staring at a table built for six, did the math, and boxed up half for Summer.

She was always gone before dawn, back after dark, never touched the kitchen. Probably lived on takeout. Tragic.

I sealed the good stuff in a container and texted her.

Me: [babe! made way too much food, saved you half. come taste my genius]

Summer: [thank you.]

Me: [also!! work handed out a whole crate of mangoes and I cannot finish them. help me out here]

Summer: [okay. thank you.]

I put the phone down and demolished my dinner.

An hour later, stuffed and glowing, my screen lit up.

Summer: [This might be out of line, but I have to ask. Do you call everyone babe?]

I typed back instantly.

Me: [of course not!! I only call people I like babe. I like you a lot. so you're my babe!]

Summer: [You've never seen my face. And you already like me?]

Me: [obviously! don't question my read on people!]

Summer: [Okay.]

Me: [wait. do you not like being called babe? say the word and I'll stop.]

Typing

Ten full minutes of it.

Summer: [It's fine. You can call me that.]

Me: [mwah mwah mwah]

My best friend's online shop went under and mailed me two giant boxes of dead stock.

Lace. Cat ears. Bunny tails.

Waste not, want not. I washed all of it.

Back when my roommate was a guy, my underwear had to dry in my own little room, door shut. Not anymore. My roommate was a girl now, same as me, so I hung everything out on the balcony without a second thought.

That day I was stuck late again, in a meeting that dragged into the void.

Making coffee, I caught the flash-flood alert on my phone.

And remembered.

My laundry. On the balcony.

Me: [BABE!! 911!! are you home??]

Summer: [Yes. What's wrong?]

Me: [it's about to pour and I forgot my laundry outside. can you grab it??]

Summer: [No problem.]

Me: [thank you babe you're the BEST]

I set the phone down and got back to it.

One more discussion circle later, I finally checked my phone and found a stack of messages waiting.

Summer, 9:27pm: [You didn't say it was this kind of laundry.]

Summer, 9:28pm: [Are you sure you want me to bring it in?]

Summer, 9:56pm: [You there?]

Summer, 10:46pm: []

Summer, 10:49pm: [Got them in for you.]

Chapter 3

Me: [omg thank you babe!! I was heads-down at work, didn't see my phone, sorrysorry]

I scrolled back up and tried again.

Me: [wait, what's wrong with that kind of laundry? you don't like it?]

Summer: [...]

Me: [more of a classic-cut person?]

Summer: [That's not it.]

Me: [okay so which one's your favorite?]

Summer: [...]

Me: [helloooo??]

Me: [the suspense is killing me]

Me: [ANSWER ME]

Summer: [...the bunny tail one.]

Me: [GOOD taste!! that's my favorite too! I have two sets, want one?]

Summer: [No thanks.]

Me: [oh don't be shy~~]

Summer: [I can't wear it.]

Me: [huh?? you a big size?]

Summer: [...]

Summer: [You could put it that way.]

Me: [UGH so jealous!!!]

Me: [I need to squeeze something. babe's so soft, babe's so good, I work overtime AND I suffer, let me squeeze!!]

Summer: [Don't. We've known each other a month.]

Me: [sorry babe!! I'll never do it again.]

Summer: [That's not what I meant.]

Me: [then what did you mean? once we're close, squeezing's on the table?]

Summer: [...depends.]

Summer was away on a work trip last week.

When she got back, she gave me a pearl necklace. Same as always, a sticky note on the box, that flowing, gorgeous handwriting.

[Saw this and thought it'd suit you. Hope you like it. Signed, Summer.]

I know nothing about pearls. I put it on, thrilled, and wore it to work.

I didn't make it past the front desk before the swarm.

"Saltwater pearls, right? Look at that luster. Not one flaw on any of them."

"Cleo, where's this from? Is there a link?"

"My roommate brought it back from a trip," I said. "No link, I don't think."

One of the older girls turned the pearls over in her fingers. "Your roommate's loaded. This is a few grand, easy. Male roommate, or female?"

I touched the pearls and grinned like an idiot.

"Female. And she's the best. Total clean freak, does basically all the cleaning, there's not a single hair on the floor. And every time she travels she brings me something back. I'm telling you, I hit the jackpot."

The desk dissolved into pearl talk.

I slipped out my phone and texted her on the sly.

Me: [babe! miss you miss you miss you!]

Summer: [What's up?]

Me: [nothing. just really glad you exist. ugh.]

Summer: [Mm. When are you back?]

Me: [no idea. looks like another late one.]

Summer: [Okay.]

Me: [did you need something?]

Summer: [No.]

Me: [dead on my feet over here]

Summer: [The landlord redid the bathroom. There's a bathtub now. Text me when you're off and I'll run it for you.]

Me: [WHAT!!!! the landlord is the BEST!!!! how did she know I wanted a tub!!!! I only ever said it to my cactus!!!]

Summer: [Who knows.]

Chapter 4

Me: [oh babe, can you grab the bunny tail one for me? third drawer in the closet.]

Summer: [You're going to wear it?]

Me: [yep yep.]

Summer: [...for who?]

Summer unsent a message.

Summer: [Sorry. That was out of line. It's your business, I shouldn't have asked.]

Me: [babe you are NOT allowed to apologize! we don't need to be careful with each other!! not for anyone, I just like looking at myself, hehe.]

Summer: [Just for yourself?]

Me: [hehehe, wanna see? my body is gorgeous. I own the single most beautiful body on the planet, actually.]

Summer: [I believe it.]

Summer: [I'll pass for now, though.]

Me: [next time then! I'm a museum-grade masterpiece, thank you.]

Summer: [Head home early, Miss Masterpiece.]

End of the month. The weather turned.

I passed a mall and found scarves, two for thirty percent off.

So I bought two, obviously. One for me, one for Summer.

Sisters against the world. When we're old and gray we'll wear our matching pink polka-dot scarves to take cute-old-lady photos at tourist traps.

Summer wasn't home yet when I got back, so I looped one scarf over her bedroom door handle and texted her.

Me: [babe, got us two scarves, one's yours, WEAR IT ok? matching set, we'll be adorable~~]

Summer: [...you mean like a matching-couples thing?]

Summer: [why aren't you answering]

Summer: [am I reading too much into this]

Summer unsent a message.

Summer unsent a message.

Summer unsent a message.

Summer: [Thanks.]

Me: [babe what'd you unsend?? I was washing my hands.]

Summer: [Nothing.]

Me: [okay!! wear it though!! pink's gonna look amazing on you!]

Summer: [Okay.]

I'd been extremely online lately, posting nonsense.

Me: [PSA: say sorry, please, and thank you more often. It strengthens your relationships. Example: sorry, please buy me dinner, thank you.]

The comments rolled in.

Commenter: [You can scam my feelings. Just not my money.]

Commenter: [Love being friends with you. Real "lose the cash and the dignity" energy.]

Commenter: [Socializing with humans is hard. Lucky for me you barely qualify.]

I laughed into my phone for a while, then got back to work.

A bit later, I noticed Summer had commented too.

Shocking. I didn't think she ever looked at my posts.

I opened the notification. She'd written:

Summer: [I'd like to take you to dinner. Is that okay?]

Oh, it was okay. It was extremely okay.

Good food plus a gorgeous girl. That dinner was going to be beautiful times two. Beautiful enough to fizz.

We locked in Saturday night, and I had nowhere to put all the happy-excited energy, so I posted again.

Me: [poll: do you like orange juice, watermelon juice, or a little snack like me?]

Summer commented right away.

Summer: [I don't like orange juice. And I don't like watermelon juice.]

Straight to the heart.

Fireworks behind my eyes.

Chapter 5

I clutched my phone and let out a shriek at my desk.

The coworker next to me nearly jumped out of her skin. "Cleo? What?"

I pressed my palms together like I was praying. "So. I think I'm having a sexuality crisis."

"What makes you say that?"

"I think I have a crush. On a girl."

She nodded, sage. "Women are perfect. This is known."

"Right? Without women the earth would stop spinning."

"The crush isn't me, is it?"

"No. My roommate."

"Cool. Go write your report."

"hehehehehehe."

It was Friday.

Normally it was either me working late or Summer working late. Our hours never lined up. We were never home at the same time.

But.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow I was finally going to meet her.

I tried on outfits, shoes, necklaces, buzzing out of my skin.

And then it hit.

My lower belly twisted like a knife.

A hot rush, and I bolted for the bathroom.

A streak of red on the toilet.

Yep. Right on schedule.

I opened my supply drawer, dead inside, reaching for an overnight pad, and found none. I'd used the last one.

Great. Karma for that flex video last month, the one that made me spite-wear an overnight pad on the final light day. Payback had arrived.

But it was fine. I had my darling roommate.

Me: [BABE HELP do you have any overnight pads??]

Summer: [What are those?]

Me: [huh? you've never used overnight pads? do you just wear the extra-long overnight ones? those are the worst, you leak in your sleep.]

Summer: [...]

Summer: [I don't wear the extra-long overnight ones.]

Summer: [So you mean sanitary pads?]

Me: [yes... barely hanging on here]

Me: [it HURTS I'm dying I'm actually dying, I'm gonna blow up the planet and take everyone down with me]

Summer: [Don't die.]

Summer: [I'm coming right back.]

The front door opened, then shut.

Summer didn't come.

Weird. I texted her.

Me: [babe, did you go out to buy me pads?]

No reply.

I swallowed an Advil, curled around a stuffed animal on the couch, and doomscrolled through the agony.

Wailing the whole time.

"Advil. What are you DOING in there. Move it.

"Universe. UNIVERSE. If I have ever meant one thing to you, you will make this stop.

"What kind of trash teammate. You can't even jungle, so stop stealing my farm. Go for the kill. Why are you RUNNING"

The door creaked open.

A tall, gorgeous man stood in the doorway, a shopping bag in one hand.

I screamed. "HELP!"

Break-in. Robbery. Murder. HELP.

He stepped forward, and the warm lamplight caught his face.

Deep-set eyes, a high straight nose, cheeks faintly flushed like he'd run the whole way.

He frowned, puzzled.

"What's wrong, Cleo?"

He lifted the bag and pulled something out to show me, voice uncertain.

"Are these the overnight pads you wanted?"

Clatter.

My phone hit the floor.

I scrambled up off the couch and stared at him.

Chapter 6