She’s only a few inches shorter tha

She’s only a few inches shorter than I am, and considering that I’m six-two, that’s saying something. Her long, straight brown hair hangs over her shoulder. She looks about twenty or so, but she’s got purplish circles beneath her eyes that make her look a little older.
“Hi,” I say.
She takes a step backward. “Hi. Sorry—who are you?” Her voice is a little raspy.
“My name’s Daniel.”
“What are you doing here?”
I raise my eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”
Her posture stiffens. “I live here.”
“You must be Estella.”
She blinks and mumbles something, and suddenly I wonder if I’m wrong. “Didn’t quite catch that,” I say.
“Stella. I prefer Stella,” she says a little louder. “I hate being called Estella. Or Stell.”
“Fair enough. I hate being called Danny. Or Dan. Or Danielle.”
The corners of her mouth twitch, and I stare. Liza’s crazy daughter is actually kind of interesting to look at. Not hot in the way I’m normally attracted to, but … definitely not boring.
“What are you reading, Stella?”
She bows her head over her book. “Anna Karenina.”
“Any good?” I’ve never read it.
She shrugs. “It’s about a woman who slowly has an emotional and psychological breakdown under the weight of society’s expectations.”
I let out a laugh. “Sorry. That sounds kind of morbid.”
“No, not at all. It’s a comedy. Pretty light and funny. You should check it out sometime.”
I can’t look away from her eyes, and that saves me from being snowed. The spark of mischief in their dark depths gives her away. “Maybe I will. I bet it has a happy ending, too?”
She presses her lips together and nods solemnly. Totally straight face. “The happiest. A perfect read if you’re feeling depressed.” She tilts her head like she’s just realizing something. “You still haven’t said why you’re in my house.”
She glances down the hallway toward her mother’s bedroom at the very end, and there’s a subtle change in her expression that tells me her brain is working at light speed. Her grip on the book tightens like she’s planning to hit me with it if I get too close. Most girls do the opposite—maybe it’s that I’m easy on the eyes, or they like the tat, the tips of which peek out of the collar of my shirt, or maybe I give off the right pheromones or whatever. I have no idea, but it certainly helps in getting things I want. But this girl? Her gaze is full of challenge. And more than a little fear.
I smile. “You’re right. I didn’t say why I was here.” I’m not going to confirm her suspicion that I was just in bed with her mom, and I’m certainly not going to be the one to tell her I’m showing up tomorrow to be her art teacher. If she says no, what the hell am I supposed to do then? I need this money. “Have a great day.”
I wave and head for the door. When I get to the huge, arched entryway, I look back. Stella’s peeking out of her hallway, staring after me. Good. Hopefully when Liza breaks the news, Stella will be intrigued.
I know I am.