My Enemy Next Door

by Nicole London

  Annoyed, I stepped out and saw that the building manager was installing a new type of piping system.

  “Sorry to wake you up, Mr. Kennedy.” He smiled. “Well, did I wake you up, or were you in there smoking marijuana again?”

  “I don’t fucking smoke.”

  He laughed. “I know. I won’t ever check again. I just always check on the first offense.”

  “Are you responding to another complaint from my neighbor?”

  “Quite the contrary,” he said. “I’m installing some new water features for the hallways on this floor and the floor above you. It’s going to affect your hot water for a few weeks, but that’s it.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, the water features are going to be temporarily connected to the same heating tube that you and your neighbor use, so you’ll need to be cautious with how much time you spend in the shower, especially since you both work mornings. I’d say ten-minute showers for the next few weeks. If either of you goes over that, your neighbor is going to be in for one hell of an ice bath.”

  “Good to know. I’ll be sure to share this information.” I returned to my apartment, debating whether I should be the bigger person and put an end to Courtney’s nonsense. I was about to text her and ask if we could talk, but Mr. Walton’s name suddenly came across my screen.

  “Yes, Mr. Walton?”

  “Hi, Mr. Kennedy. I’m calling because I’m wondering how much longer you want us to wait before starting today’s emergency meeting.”

  “Today’s what?”

  “Today’s emergency meeting,” he repeated. “We’ve been at the firm for over an hour and Miss Ryan said she knocked on your door for over twenty minutes this morning. So, I wanted to be sure you were alright and on your way.”

  “I’m on my way.” I clenched my jaw. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

  This is fucking war.

  SEVEN, AGAIN

  Courtney: Present Day

  I SLIPPED INTO MY APARTMENT at two o’clock in the morning—utterly drained from all the interviews I’d had to record today. My back was aching and my eyes were sore from staring at the screens for so long.

  Quickly changing into my pajamas—a pink set of flannels, I fell face first onto my bed and thought about the one great thing that had happened today: Seeing the look on Jace’s face when his dry-cleaning company still hadn’t found his suits. (They were all tucked in my closet.)

  Laughing, I rolled over and shut my eyes.

  Just as I was about to drift to sleep, there was a loud banging noise on my door. And before I could even process who the hell would be banging on my door at this hour, a group of firefighters walked inside.

  “Ma’am, are you breathing?” One of them walked over to me, yelling. “Ma’am, are you breathing?”

  “Yes...” I rolled over and sat up. “What’s going on?”

  “Ma’am we need you to exit the apartment. You need to take the closest stairwell down to the lobby. Do not stop and collect anything, just go.”

  “What?” I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. “What’s happening?”

  “Your neighbor reported a gas leak, ma’am.” He grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet, ushering me out of my apartment. “We can’t afford to take any chances. Out.”

  “There is no gas leak.” I was so tired I could cry. “My neighbor’s trying to get back at me. There. Is. No. Gas. Leak.”

  “Your neighbor is concerned about you.” He motioned to one of the other firefighters. “Tommy, carry her out of here.”

  I bit my tongue the entire way down twenty-two flights of steps. When we reached the lobby, Jace was sitting at a table with a hot cup of coffee, smirking at me.

  “Something wrong, Miss Ryan?” He smiled. “It’s quite late for you to be wandering around in your pajamas.”

  I started to fire back, but then I noticed something. There were no other residents downstairs, there was no fire truck parked right outside, and the tell-tale alarms were silent.

  How is that even possible?

  A “firefighter” walked past me and right over to Jace, and I noticed his suit wasn’t even real. Then I noticed Jace slipping him a hundred-dollar bill.

  “You son of a bitch...” I cursed under my breath, but Jace definitely heard me.

  He stood up and had the audacity to wink at me. “Remember, you started this shit. I’m going to finish it.”

  We’ll see about that.

  Several days later...

  I WOKE UP SUPER EARLY so I could beat Jace to the firm. Lately, he’d been insistent on arriving there first, and I knew it was just so he could stare at me as I walked into my office.

  Stepping into the shower, I turned on the water and screamed. “What the hell!” I jumped out of the tub like a wet kitten and wrapped myself in a towel. Putting on my “good neighbor” face, I walked over to Jace’s apartment and knocked on the door.

  To my surprise, he opened the door within seconds.

  “Yes?” He stared at my towel as it dripped water onto the floor. “May I help you with something, neighbor?”

  “Is your hot water out, too?”

  “No.” He shook his head and smiled. “My hot water is just fine.”

  “Are you sure? Because I just tried to use it and it’s ice-cold.”

  “Well, that’s probably because I’ve purposely used all of it, all day, every day, but...” He shrugged. “Then again, it could be something else.”

  “You did what?”

  He opened his door a little wider, giving me a glimpse of his kitchen faucet where a steady light stream of water was dripping into the sink. “It’s only going to be like this for a few more weeks while they fix the water features in the hallway. If you’d like, you can drop your towel and I’ll tell you whether someone would notice if you took a shower or not today.”

  I screamed again and stormed back to my apartment. I quickly dressed and called the town car service. I made sure I had everything I needed and rushed down to the lobby.

  I can use Mila’s apartment to shower and then I need to get his ass back for this...

  The driver helped me inside the car and sped across town to Walton & Associates. The second I made it to my office, I hit the lights and prepared to slam the door—ready to block his “view” for the rest of the week, but the door was gone.

  My. Door. Was. Gone.

  “Looking for something, Miss Ryan?” Jace was already at his desk, smiling.

  How the hell did you beat me here?

  “Yes,” I said. “It seems as if someone has misplaced my door.”

  “Oh, well that’s an odd thing to lose, don’t you think?” He stood up and walked over to my office, waving his hand in the space where my door used to be. “Perhaps you should file a police report. Maybe the same person who stole your door, stole my suits. Theft seems to be a thing around this firm.” He smiled his cocky grin and returned to his seat, staring at me—daring me to make my next move.

  A whole week later...

  Do not engage. Do not engage. Do NOT engage.

  I was in my bed, attempting to use my vibrator to get a release after another petty-war week, but the wall that separated my apartment from Jace’s was shaking under the vibrations of his loud music. He’d been playing it for four hours straight, and I was waiting for him to give it up and fall asleep, but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen for a while.

  Annoyed, I slipped the vibrator between my legs anyway—pressing the tip against my clit and turning it on.

  Nothing happened.

  Not a single buzz.

  Ugh!

  I tossed the vibrator into the drawer—along with my other failed ones, and picked up my phone. I checked the status of the one I’d ordered three days ago and noticed it arrived yesterday.

  I knew, without a doubt, that Jace had it, but I was hoping he hadn’t opened it. And I was hoping he would be open to a quick truce.

  Swallowing my pride, I slipped into
my robe and stepped into the hallway. I saw a woman in a grey suit leaving his apartment—the same woman who I’d seen twenty minutes ago.

  “Um, hey,” I said, feeling a pang of jealousy in my chest.

  “Um, hey.” She smiled at me and pressed the down button.

  “Are you dating Jace?”

  She laughed and stepped onto the elevator, not answering me.

  Okay. No truce. Two can play this game.

  I banged on his door as loud as I could. “Jace! Jace!”

  He answered the door with his trademark sexy smile as always. “May I help you, neighbor?”

  “I’m looking for a package.”

  He leaned against the doorframe. “What type of package?”

  “A package that was delivered to my address.”

  “Do you have any idea what it looked like?”

  “It looked like it had my name on it.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Have you seen it?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” he said. “But now that you’re here, maybe you can help with a problem I’m having. You see, every night for the past few weeks, I’ve been hearing moans through my wall—your wall, but they’re only from one person. There’s usually a loud buzzing noise accompanying the moans...I think the person tries to muffle them with the sound of the shower water sometimes.”

  I felt my cheeks reddening, but I didn’t say anything.

  “Have you heard anything like that in your apartment?”

  “No. Must be coming from another floor.”

  He smirked. “Must be.”

  I started to resort to asking for the truce, but I spotted my package on his floor.

  Right there behind him, on his floor.

  “The package I was looking for is right behind you,” I said, crossing my arms. “Could you kindly fucking give it to me?”

  “Kindly fucking give it to you? Are you referring to the package?”

  “Yes, I’m referring to the package.” I snapped, hating that he’d made me wet over such a simple exchange. “Please give it to me. Now.”

  “I’ll give it to you after you give me my fucking suits.”

  “I don’t have your suits.” I paused once I saw the look on his face. “Okay, I’ll give you the suits if you give me my package.”

  He pointed down the hall. “Go get the suits. I need to make sure you didn’t open or tamper with them, just like I didn’t open or tamper with your package.”

  I returned to my unit and walked into my closet, pulling out the first of thirty dry cleaner bags. I grabbed five at a time and handed them to Jace, and when I was done (and he’d finished “inspecting” them) he handed me my package.

  “Thank you so much for finding my suits.” He smiled. “Have a good night, neighbor.”

  “I hate the way you say the word neighbor.”

  “I hate the way you act as my neighbor.” He shut the door, and I took the box to my room—ready to (unfortunately) use his face as inspiration.

  When I opened the box, I realized he’d lied about tampering with it. Not only had he opened the vibrator and placed batteries in it, he’d left a note.

  DEAR COURTNEY,

  I find it sad that you have to resort to using such things to get pleasure in your life...

  Nonetheless, if you ever want the real thing, please know that I’m right next door and willing to help.

  (And as you already know, my cock is twice the size of this “toy” you’re playing with.)

  You’re welcome,

  Jace.

  EIGHT

  Jace: Present Day

  WHEN I WAS IN LAW SCHOOL, my professors warned me about a certain type of opponent. They said this type of opponent would always be willing to bend the rules of the law to their own will, to reconstruct the lines in a way that fit them best, and that if I should ever encounter someone like this, I could either risk my license to practice or try to beat them at their own game.

  In Seattle, I’d handled plenty of these rogue lawyers with ease, but right now, even though this current war was personal, Courtney was definitely closer to winning.

  Sliding her pen into her mouth for the umpteenth time this afternoon, she crossed her legs and cleared her throat. “The CEO of the utility company is willing to come into our office for a taped deposition,” she said. “His lawyer says he’ll be too busy to participate in a trial—if this goes to trial.”

  “I’m sure.” I shut my book, noticing the imprint of lace panties under her dress. “Who was the guy in your apartment last night?”

  “What?” She blushed.

  “The guy in your apartment last night,” I repeated. “Who the fuck was he?”

  “Don’t curse at me,” she said, glaring. “And stick to questions about the case, or I’m leaving.”

  “Are you sleeping with him?”

  “No.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Anything else that’s not about this case and I’m walking out right now.”

  Silence.

  I tapped my fingers on my desk, debating whether now was the time I needed to ask when the last time she’d been fucked was, but I decided to wait until later.

  “What did you tell the lawyer after he mentioned the deposition?” I asked.

  “I said I’d get back to him.” She let out a breath, and the tension between us slowly gave way. “I’ve read the depositions from previous cases like this, and I’m not trying to insinuate anything but...”

  “But what?”

  She sighed. “Can we have a truce for like two minutes?”

  “Only two minutes?”

  “Seeing as that’s how long you had a woman over your apartment the other night, that’s how long you last these days, right?”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Are you sleeping with her?” The words rushed out of her mouth.

  “I thought you only wanted to talk about the case.”

  “I do.” She paused. “But are you sleeping with her?”

  “No.” I pointed to her computer. “Say what you need to say over our two-minute truce, Miss Ryan.”

  “Okay, well—” She opened her laptop and spun it around to face me, showing me a screen where she’d pieced together video clips. “Bryson Power & Water Company has been involved in over three hundred similar lawsuits dating back to 1969. Of those, two have made it to court, and the rest have been settled.”

  “I’m well aware of that. What’s your point?”

  “The depositions from all the opposing counsels are all the same.”

  I raised my eyebrow.

  “I’ve watched every single one—Well, the ones from the eighties. I read the ones from the sixties. And in every single one, the counsel agent asks the current president or CEO the same questions, sometimes in the same order.” She hit play on her laptop, and a collection of the videos began to play at the same time.

  “Do you always make sure your water facilities are up to current federal code?” “How do you deal with issues that arise when customers bring it to your attention?” “Did you purposely use cheaper materials to construct your piping wells?”

  She stopped the tape and looked at me. “There may be some variation here or there, but each of these is the same. So, unless every lawyer who wanted to sue Bryson, Inc. over the past few years came up with the same exact questions in the same exact order—”

  “They were all paid under the table.” I hit play on the video again—letting the video roll for eight more questions. “You watched all of these?”

  She nodded.

  I hit pause, impressed.

  At my previous firm, whenever I told the second chair lawyer to do research on a huge company, they’d handpick up to ten cases. Never more.

  Before I could tell her that she could call the utility company lawyer and tell him to go fuck himself, my desk phone rang.

  “Yes?” I answered.

  “May I speak to Mr. Kennedy?” It was the lawyer.

  “This is he.”


  “Mr. Kennedy, hello. I’m calling to let you know that we’re willing to concede to a deposition and a very generous settlement with your clients.”

  “Define very generous.”

  “We’ll offer fifty thousand per family member for a total of two hundred fifty thousand dollars.”

  “Surely you’re smart enough to know better than to waste my time with an offer like that.”

  “If you agree, we’re willing to be more than generous to you and your team for working on this case as well. I know you were a hot shot in Seattle, but this is a whole different ballgame. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

  “For your sake, I would hope not. I’ll see you in court, Mr. Redford.”

  “Why are you acting like this is personal?”

  “It is.” I ended the call and stood up the second Courtney crossed her legs. I needed to take a cold shower, and I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my afternoon being tortured by the sight of Courtney’s pen game or dealing with her sarcasm.

  “I’m leaving early today,” I said.

  “What? Why?” Courtney looked confused, but then she cleared her throat and tried to look nonchalant. “I don’t recall asking.”

  “I just thought I’d let you know that if you’re interested in leaving early and practicing your pen-sucking skills on something thicker and longer, I’ll be right next door all night.”

  Her cheeks turned redder than ever. “You know I can file a sexual harassment claim against you, right?”

  “You can.” I pulled out my phone. “And if you do, I’ll share the video of all the bullshit you’ve pulled this week as well.”

  “I didn’t know you still cared so much.”

  “I’m still trying to figure out if you do.”

  She shook her head—the truth etched all over her gorgeous face. “I don’t. Our truce is long over by the way.”

  “That means you’re back to the petty shit?”

  “Yes.” She picked up one of my favorite pens, sliding it between her lips again. “Back to the petty shit.”