Sexy in the City

by Alexia Adams, Galen Rose, Samantha Anne, Carolann Camillo, Nicole Flockton, Iris Leach, Olivia Logan, Nancy Loyan, Stephanie Cage (epub)

  “You are such a clever girl. You told that Mr. Builder exactly how I feel. The others, they can show him the ill will.”

  Molly grabbed a black felt tip pen, propped the sign against the building façade and began to trace over the penciled letters. The jagged, uneven wall made it difficult to hold the cardboard steady. Mrs. Z had wandered over to help one of the other women just when Molly needed another hand.

  The pen hit a particularly rough spot, creating a squiggle. “Oh, crap.” Molly began to trace a straight line over the squiggly one.

  “Do you need help?”

  The hand that extended from the cuff of a pale blue shirt sleeve took up a position beside Molly’s. She glanced over her shoulder and up into Nick’s eyes. The vibrant amber had deepened to rusty mud.

  “Hello, Nick.” The last time she’d gazed into those eyes, they’d been heavy with sexual desire. Now they looked mad, sad, and anything but glad to see her. A quick glance at her watch showed the time at 7:31. He’d lost little time hurrying to the site.

  “This is your idea, I suppose.”

  He spoke close to her ear.

  “No. Well, sort of no, if you consider I’m not the original source. I’m helping Mrs. Z with spelling and penmanship.”

  “Is that your source over there?” He thrust his chin in Duncan Serk’s direction.

  “Actually, it’s a lot closer than him.”

  “Someone ought to tell him he misspelled doofus. I think it has only one ‘s’.”

  Nick stood close enough for Molly to see his hair was still damp. It looked furrowed, as if he’d raked his fingers through it, like he jumped out of the shower and into his clothes and raced to the site. A thick lock fell toward one eye. Her stomach flip-flopped at the mere thought of brushing it back.

  He took the pen from her, capped it, and put it in his pocket. Then he moved her hand and the sign slid down the wood façade to her feet.

  “The idea came from you, Nick.”

  He frowned. “Try something more original.”

  He held her hand, the ring finger and pinky, anyway. Did that mean, in spite of the picketing, he still wanted to touch some part of her? More likely, he was afraid she’d bolt before he finished blaming her for everything from the housing crunch to global warming.

  “Do you recall the morning you charged into my office? You said you were surprised your tenants weren’t picketing you.”

  “So … ”

  She told him that at the association meeting someone, possibly her … mentioned a silent protest could, under the right conditions, be more effective than a bunch of people shouting. Picketing seemed like a good example. “I would never have thought of this on my own.”

  He shook his head and the frown melted. “You were supposed to stay out of it.”

  “I am out.”

  He nudged the picket sign with the toe of his shoe. “You keep digging in deeper.”

  “Is that what Saturday was all about? Programming me to turn my back on these people?”

  “What? Hell no. Is that what you think?”

  She shrugged. “It occurred to me.”

  “So that’s why you’re here making picket signs?” His thumb rubbed her pinky. Disappointment colored his tone, his expression turned hurt as if his best friend had abandoned him.

  “Only one sign.”

  “When this is resolved, you and I are going to sit down and thrash this whole thing through.”

  “By then, one of us might not be talking to the other.”

  “Then let’s go somewhere right now.” He moved a few inches closer.

  “Don’t step over this line.” She pointed to the thin ribbon of chipped concrete that outlined the sidewalk squares.

  He frowned. “Why not?”

  “It’s a boundary line, like at a demilitarized zone.”

  “What have you people geared up for here, World War Three?”

  She shook her head. “Mrs. Z said the tenants agreed to stay on their side of the line and not cross onto your property.” Molly glanced over his shoulder to where a trio of workmen loitered near the construction site.

  “Even Serk?”

  “Well, I understand he was resistant. But only at first.”

  “That’s city turf they’re on.”

  “They have a right.”

  “Uh-oh.” Nick dropped her hand. The muscles in his face tightened. He’d gone from abandoned to pissed off in less than a minute.

  She glanced behind her. Duncan Serk, whose sign read DIRTY STINKIN, GREEDY, DOOFUSS, TALK AIN’T NO GOOD NO MORE stalked their way, one hand balled into a fist.

  “Go back to work, Molly.” Nick lifted her a few inches off the sidewalk and put her down on his side of the line. “Now.”

  The construction workers fingered their tool belts and moved closer to Nick. He waved them off and walked toward Serk. Molly stood her ground.

  “Do you have a permit?” Nick asked Serk in a calm tone.

  “Huh?”

  “You’re congregating on city property. You need a permit for that.”

  Serk frowned. His features compressed into tight lines around his ferret-like eyes. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

  “If you check with the police department, you’ll find that no more than three people can be out here at one time.” He fingered the cell phone clipped to his belt. “If you’d like, I can call the local police station and get clarification.”

  Molly had never heard of such a rule except for parades and demonstrations that involved large numbers of unruly people. Or gatherings in countries run by brutal dictators.

  “While I do that, I’ll have the cops investigate those studs you’ve stapled your signs to. If those are materials stolen from my worksite, you’ll have to explain that, as well.”

  “Huh?”

  Apparently, Duncan Serk was a man of single words when confronted by someone who stood up to him.

  “It’s illegal for this many people to gather. Unless you want the women arrested along with you, they should clear off the street. The men can continue picketing in front of the building. Just don’t cross that line over there.” Nick pointed to what Molly had referred to as the demilitarized zone.

  Four or five additional construction workers arrived and stood clustered near Molly.

  One of the other male tenants headed over to Nick. “We don’t want any trouble. Right, Serk?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, sure. We don’t want no trouble, but we’re stickin’ to our demands.”

  Serk turned away without waiting for a reply from Nick. The women had already cleared off the sidewalk, except for Mrs. Z who seemed reluctant until Molly caught her eye and motioned for her to follow the others inside.

  Only four men remained in front of the building. Nick walked back to Molly.

  “Hey, boss. Nice goin’.” One of the construction workers pumped his fist. Another slapped Nick on the back.

  “Okay, it’s over. If anyone comes onto this property when I’m not at the site, call me. Don’t get into any hassles with them.”

  “Those guys ain’t gonna cause trouble. You took care of that, boss.”

  “All right, it’s over. Let’s get busy.”

  The workers drifted onto the construction site.

  Molly asked Nick, “Did they really need a permit?”

  He shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “You told them they did.”

  “It saved a lot of potential trouble. Good thing the real doofus isn’t as stubborn as you.”

  She let that pass but only because she admired the way Nick had dealt with the situation.

  “Serk’s a bully. When you show a bully you’re not afraid of him, he backs down.”

  “Well, that
one certainly did.” She cast a glance at Serk. He leaned against the building and puffed on a cigarette, his sign propped beside him. He seemed to have lost most of his aggression.

  “That was nice of you to allow the men to continue picketing the apartment house. You could have made a huge issue when you discovered they’d helped themselves to your wood.”

  “Helped themselves? They stole it.”

  “Well, whatever. Anyway, you defused the situation. You seem pretty good at that.”

  His grin told her he was pleased with the way everything turned out. “Yeah, I’ve always had a knack for handling people.”

  “So I see.”

  He nodded and his grin widened. “Just so you know.”

  “Should I consider that fair warning?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Really? How do you plan to handle me?”

  He touched the tip of her nose with his finger. “That’s easy. Now that I know what you like.”

  “Huh?” Damn, was that the best she could manage? Now she sounded like she’d just channeled Duncan Serk.

  Chapter 19

  Molly spent the remainder of the morning trying not to imitate a narcolepsy victim. By ten o’clock, the burst of energy that had carried her through the earlier hours at the picket line had dissipated and left her limp and fatigued. A glance at her calendar reminded her she needed to work on the budget. She’d already ruined two spreadsheets and cursed at her computer. The source of the problem wasn’t technical. It was her. Cynthia supplied seemingly endless mugs of hot, strong coffee, but even the caffeine rush hadn’t jolted Molly into a livelier mood.

  She made a concerted effort to focus on all things mathematical. Still, her thoughts wandered back to Nick and how he’d accused Duncan Serk of breaking the law and cowed the bully. As if she had a tiny video recorder lodged in her brain, she freeze-framed his face and got hot and mushy and all but melted into her office chair. Was that any way to plan a budget? Not with her recent numerical ineptitude.

  Something else had wrapped itself around her mind: Nick’s cryptic pronouncement of “Now I know what you like.” What did that mean? He’d discovered she enjoyed chocolate cookies, the Napa Valley, living in San Francisco, and — who would have guessed — getting down and dirty along with a whole lot of other things that were basically inconsequential. On the important side, he’d found out what made her squirm and moan and come close to having an orgasm without actually doing it. The past two nights she relived that exact moment. Would it happen again in real time? She wanted it to but, in a burst of self-preservation, she kicked it to the bottom of her wish list. Either that or turn herself into a fire eater because what she’d played with in Napa had the explosive power of a neutron bomb.

  A light drizzle gave some much needed sparkle to the otherwise dingy sidewalk. Once inside her car, Molly got the motor started and the windshield wipers in motion. Then, without conscious thought, she whipped a U-turn, which pointed her in the opposite direction of her usual route home. She slowed the car and waited for her brain to figure out what was up. Uh-oh. She was headed straight toward Nick’s construction site. Hmm. Now what would Dominique make of that? Probably the desire to be in proximity to Nick, or at least his workplace. Had it lurked all day in Molly’s subconscious? Was that why she acted on it? That was crazy. Then again, so was everything that happened to her in the past week and a half. She hoped it didn’t mean her head lost the battle with her heart. Wouldn’t that be great? She could forever cruise the streets where Nick slapped up condos or whatever else he intended to build.

  She was almost halfway there, so she decided to continue. Once she passed the corner of the site, she’d angle up to Market and then hook onto Castro. Probably more traffic that way, but she didn’t feel like making another U-turn. Cars parked on both sides narrowed the street, and dusk edged closer to darkness. Also, the drizzle turned into rain.

  She eased up on the gas as she approached the construction site. Alongside it, light spilled from the rain-streaked windows that fronted Mrs. Z’s apartment. Most of the other units appeared dark. Molly slowed then stopped when she came abreast of Nick’s temporary office. It showed no signs of life. She pushed on the accelerator but had only advanced a few feet when she spotted his car parked across from the site. He was possibly — no probably — inside the apartment building. Mrs. Z hadn’t mentioned another association meeting. Still, he could be negotiating with his tenants. Then, again, he could be passing out eviction notices.

  Molly waited for a break in traffic then whipped a U-turn at the corner and pulled in behind Nick’s hybrid. Just as she killed her lights, did she see a vague outline of a person in the rear seat, leaning back against the curbside door? She edged forward against the steering wheel and squinted. On a clearer night, the streetlamp would have given more illumination. Tonight, mist and fog shrouded its glow. Her windows began to steam and she rubbed at the windshield.

  Rain streaked his back window. Still, she was now certain someone hunkered down inside his car. Whoever it was glanced toward hers, waited a few moments, then turned back toward the building site. Nick? Why would he sit out here in the dark? Or it could be a homeless person. Once she’d forgotten to lock one of her doors and found an inebriated man sprawled across her backseat. It had taken her and Dr. Jake close to a half hour to coax him out.

  Common sense told her to head straight home. But when, lately, had she used common sense?

  She shut down the motor, palmed her keys, and climbed out of the car. She checked the street for traffic then dashed around the front of the vehicle to his curbside window. She bent down and peered through the steamy, moisture-streaked glass to the back of a man’s head and compiled an inventory: dark hair stylishly cut, shoulders that only the gods could have chiseled, and a lower arm resting on the front seat back and advertising muscles upon muscles. It was Nick. Should she check to see if he was okay? She tapped on the glass.

  The window rolled down a few inches.

  “Molly?” He pushed open the door. “What the hell?” He reached out and grabbed her arm. “Get in here.” He moved across to the middle of the seat and pulled her in beside him. He closed the door and slid the window up before any more rain slanted in.

  The cool air inside his car, along with her damp blouse, chilled her. She pushed her keys into her pocket and crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed her shoulders.

  “What are you doing here?” He brushed a damp, springy curl off her forehead. “Your hair is wet.”

  “I was on my way home.” She blotted some of the moisture off her cheeks with the back of her hand.

  “Shouldn’t you have been heading north? You’re going in the opposite direction.”

  Yes, but I was obeying this crazy impulse …

  “I got turned around in the rain.” At least it sounded plausible.

  “I’m glad.” His smile lifted the night gloom. “I’m sorry you got wet on my account.”

  “I spotted your car and wondered if maybe you were inside the apartment building.”

  “Why would I be in there?”

  “Uh … ” Should she ruin their cozy chat and confess her earlier suspicion he might have nudged his tenants toward a quick exit date? “I thought maybe you had … uh … reinforced the rules with Mr. Serk.”

  “He left an hour ago.”

  Steam smudged the windows. Sitting so close to Nick dissipated the coolness inside the car. They nestled in the quiet gloom, with their thighs and shoulders close enough to touch. A lick of heat burnt through Molly’s clothes. Why did she have to feel so damn comfortable with him? So comfortable, she could have spent the rest of the night there and rubbed body parts with him while he waited for … what? Who?

  “Are you expecting someone?” God, what if it was a date? But then, wouldn’t he have stayed inside his trailer? Maybe not. A woman
could hop from her car into his and not get too wet. Just like she had.

  “You might say that.” He checked his watch, one with a large glow-in-the-dark face and a batch of dials. An awkward sensation settled in Molly’s chest and sent her comfort zone into a downward spiral. After she barged in on him, she could wind up looking like a fool. Those nasty impulses were bound to cause her all kinds of trouble. “I’m keeping you from something.” Someone? “I guess I should head home.” She reached for the door handle.

  “Don’t leave yet.” He covered her hand with his. “Though, if I’m going to keep an eye out over there, we have to switch positions.”

  Positions? The last one with Nick had subsequently turned her brain to goo.

  “The security I hired to keep tabs on the site after dark didn’t work out. I’ve had to do my own surveillance off and on for the past week.”

  “You’re still having problems?”

  “Yeah.”

  Molly peered across Nick to the construction site. “Do you think it’s Serk?”

  “It’s possible. But whoever it is can’t delay the construction indefinitely. It’ll take something really big to shut it down.”

  “How big?”

  “Like a major collapse or a fire gutting the place.”

  “If Serk’s responsible, shutting down your project almost guarantees he’ll keep his apartment.”

  “Not forever. I’d rebuild and post more security down here.”

  Molly smiled. “I’ll bet about … eighty thousand a unit could solve everyone’s problems.” She gave a vigorous nod as if she expected him to jump at her proposal. “I wondered if maybe you were inside negotiating with them.”

  “Eighty thou?” He laughed. “I love the way you squander money I don’t have.”

  “Well, admit it, it has almost as nice a ring as a hundred. I’ll bet they’d come down off their original demand if you proposed eighty.”

  He shook his head. “They and you have to show a lot more flexibility than that.”

  “I think they could be flexible.”