by Reilly, Cora
I turned the water off and rubbed a damp towel over my head, trying to get the images of my neighbor out of my head. I'd never obsessed over someone like this. Well, at least not in such a sexual way. I’d been pining over a guy pretty much all through high school, but back then my imagination had mostly ended at kissing or an abstract romantic first time. Of course, nothing had ever happened with that guy. Just like nothing was ever going to happen with my neighbor.
Maybe it was time for me to do something about my single status. All those years of waiting for Mr. Right, for true love, had been a waste of time. The sexual frustration was apparently driving me nuts. I stepped out of the cubicle when I heard an insistent knocking. Stumbling out of the bath closet, I wrapped the towel around my body and clamped my arms down to make sure it stayed in place.
It wasn’t even 9 yet. Nobody ever bothered me this early. Maybe it was Blond Guy. Maybe he'd noticed me watching them having sex last night.
I stopped with my hand on the door handle, frozen. God, what if it was him? I'd die of embarrassment.
Bruno stood beside me, yelping excitedly. He scratched the old wood with his claws, leaving more marks beside the ones he’d inflicted in the last few months. If I ever moved out of this hellhole, my landlord would probably make me pay for a new door – or at least a new paint job.
With a shaky hand, I pushed the handle down and opened my door. I stifled a sigh of relief when I found Amy standing in front of me. She was grinning widely. Her copper hair stuck out from her head in two side pigtails with pink ribbons. “Okay.” I drew the word out, then I raised my eyebrows. “Have you and Jared been up to something kinky?”
Amy was the only one I could talk to like that. Somehow she brought out my bolder side. Before moving to New York, I didn’t know I had one. I still didn’t most of the time.
It wasn’t really unusual that she had her hair up in some weird hairdo, but she usually didn’t go for the schoolgirl look.
She poked her tongue out at me and pushed past me. She was small, several inches smaller than me. But I was 5’8 so most girls were smaller than me, and even some men. If I lowered my standards and stopped looking for a man who was taller than me, maybe then I’d have more luck in the men department.
“I’d be wearing knee socks and a pleated skirt if that were the case, just so you know,” she said with a grin, flashing her tongue piercing at me.
“TMI,” I said quickly. I really didn’t need that image in my head. I was still busy trying to get rid of what I saw yesterday. “It’s not even nine. What the hell are you doing here so early? And shouldn’t you be at work?” I closed the door and only now noticed that she was holding two cups in her hands. I tried to catch the scent of roasted beans but got nothing.
“I have to work evenings in the next few weeks.”
That meant she wouldn’t be able to take care of Bruno anymore. My face must have fallen, because she hastily continued. “Jared will keep Bruno company when he gets back from work. And I’ll be back to working lunch hours soon.”
Relief settled in my body. I couldn’t have afforded a dog sitter right now and I doubted my boss would be thrilled if I’d start taking Bruno to work with me again. My ears were still ringing from his lecture the last time.
“But that’s not the only reason I’m here. I thought I’d introduce you to the perfect way to start the day.” She raised the cups. I sniffed again. They definitely didn’t smell like coffee. I walked up to her and peeked into the cups. A pale green liquid was inside. “What’s that?”
“Matcha tea with agave syrup.”
I screwed up my eyebrows. The brew reminded me of the water that had come out of my faucets the first few days after I’d moved in. Landlord Olsen had merely advised me not to wash my face or brush my teeth with it, since it could be infected with something. Whatever that meant, and then the idiot had taken his sweet-ass time to fix it. But I didn’t mention any of this to Amy. “Something your boss ordered for the restaurant?”
Amy nodded enthusiastically as she swung open the folding table that perched at the edge of my kitchenette. She set the cups down on the pink coasters she’d given me a few days ago. One of her attempts to make my apartment a bit more homely. Sadly the pink looked horrible against the mustard color of my table. “It gives you an energy boost and is super healthy. It’s a super food.” Her face began to glow like it always did when she talked about healthy food. She worked in a vegan restaurant called ‘Rawmazing’ where they served mainly raw vegan cuisine and super food smoothies how Amy put it. If she knew I considered dinner a success whenever I had guacamole instead of cheese dip with my tortilla chips, she’d freak out.
I followed her toward the table, all the while holding the towel around my body. I didn't want to flash her. Though, I was pretty sure Amy wouldn’t mind. She was pretty open about such things. She and Jared loved sunbathing European style. I reached for the cup but she shook her head and tutted. “It still needs some milk. I didn’t have any at home. I need to go grocery shopping.”
I opened my tiny fridge and took the vanilla soy milk out. I’d always bought it for when Amy came over to visit since she was vegan, but I’d gotten so used to the taste that I didn’t even bother buying anything else.
“And, Nora, we really need to do something about that light bulb. There’s a lovely second hand shop with vintage furniture just around the corner of Rawmazing. I’m sure they have a lamp for little money. Everything’s better than this. Maybe we can go there before work one morning.”
I wasn't sure if I should be offended or embarrassed. I sank down on the folding chair across from her. Sometimes it felt as though everything I owned could be folded. I couldn’t help but wonder when they’d finally invent the folding boyfriend.
Amy’s eyes lingered on the white wall over my bed. It wasn’t the first time either.
“I know it needs pictures. The white walls remind me of hospitals,” I said. “Maybe we can find a nice painting in that vintage shop you mentioned.” I wasn't a shopping addict, mainly because I lacked the necessary money, but if Amy said the second hand shop wasn’t expensive, I believed her. She knew I couldn’t afford much. Not that she earned a ton as chef in training but with her and Jared’s money they got by.
Her face lit up in a smile. “I’m sure we will.” She put the soy milk in our cups and handed one to me. I took a sip and was surprised at the tart sweetness. “Not bad,” I said between sips.
“Just wait a few minutes until you get an energy boost,” she said with a smile. “To be honest, you look like you could really need one.”
I rubbed my eyes. I hadn’t looked into the mirror yet, but I bet I had dark circles the size of saucers.
“Bad day at work?” she asked, keeping her voice down like she thought I might have a hangover. But sadly only our customers were allowed to drink. And technically I had only been allowed to drink hard liquor for two weeks. That’s when I’d turned twenty-one. Not that my age had stopped me from taking a gulp before then, or work in a bar that served said liquor. Jack hadn’t given a fuck about my age when he hired me. Not that it mattered anymore.
“I can’t remember the last good day I had,” I said. I had a feeling that the Matcha was slowly kicking in. Or maybe that was just Amy’s chipper presence.
“You’re too young to be so jaded,” Amy said jokingly. I rolled my eyes at her. She didn’t get her ass touched by sweaty, beer-bellied old man every fucking day. Bruno had rolled out of bed and was trying to get her attention. He was using his charm on her, and like usually it worked. She patted his head and whispered words of adoration. And, honestly, who could resist that face? But he ignored me like he always did when Amy was around. She was his flavor of the month. Well, more like flavor of the year.
“Sometimes I worry that I’ll be stuck waiting tables all my life. I’m not sure I can survive another two years listening to stinky guys call me puppet or babe. Who came up with that name anyway? Do I look like a pig?” I cou
ldn’t believe I’d been working at Jack’s for that long already. For the first year of my life in New York I’d worked in the kitchen of a small restaurant, washing dishes, but when they’d closed, Jack’s was the only place where I could find a new job.
Tea shot out of Amy’s nose as she succumbed to a fit of giggles. I handed her a napkin, stifling my own laughter. “That was so lady like. I bet Jared would have ravished you if he’d seen it.”
“Oh shut up,” she gasped out between bursts of laughter while wiping her chin and the table with the napkin. Eventually she turned serious. “Maybe I can ask Fiona if she needs someone else,” Amy said.
I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. You don’t have to do that. You know I’m not vegan. Don’t you have a vegans-only policy?”
“Yeah, but I’ll ask anyway. You don’t eat meat, I’m sure that counts for something.”
I didn’t mention that I would have given anything for a few scallops in that moment. By now my skin had dried and my hair was a knotted clot atop my head. “Maybe if I’m lucky I can sell a few short stories this year.”
“I’m sure you’ll snatch up a publisher with your new book.”
She was one of the few people I’d told about my writing, and she never made fun of me or didn’t take it seriously. That was what I loved about Amy. Everything was possible in her mind. She dreamed of opening her own vegan restaurant one day and she never doubted that it would happen.
I’d mentioned my love for writing to my parents once but that hadn’t gone over well. My mom had said my time would be better spent looking for a suitable husband and my dad wanted me to work a proper job, preferably take over his vet practice at some point.
“Does Jared have the early shift again?” I asked, remembering Amy’s comment about Jared taking care of Bruno. Jared was doing his residency in a hospital two blocks from here and had been gone most evenings and nights in the last few weeks.
“Yeah, he left around five.” She and Jared were high school sweethearts. I didn’t think there still existed couples like them. She always got me back on my find-true-love wagon. They'd been together for six years and were nauseatingly happy. If I didn’t like her so much, I’d probably hate her for having the perfect boyfriend. Though at this point in my life, I’d probably even take the asshat boyfriend.
Maybe she knew the blond man. I could ask her. I bit my lip anxiously and wondered how I could broach the subject without being too obvious. I could hardly tell her that I'd watched him having sex. Though, again, Amy probably wouldn’t find fault in that.
“Uhh...Amy...” Wow. Wasn't I the epitome of eloquence?
She smiled at me, her expression curious.
“I saw a man yesterday...and he lost his...umm...”
Think of something!
“I-pod. I want to give it back to him. Do you know who he is?” I watched her hopefully.
She started giggling and I felt heat rise up into my cheeks. “You haven't even described him to me. My Spidey sense isn’t that good.”
I grinned sheepishly. “Well, he was quite tall and he...”
...had a mouthwatering chest.
“...had blond hair, almost golden, good looking, maybe in his late twenties and he seems to live in the building across from ours.” I nodded toward my window. I decided not to give her the detailed description of his bedroom. That would have made me sound like a creep.
Amy gave me a knowing smile.
Was I being that transparent? I wasn't a good liar, I knew that, but apparently it was even worse than I'd thought.
“Golden hair and good looking? Well, that might be Adrian Black. Jared and he go to the same fitness center,” she said thoughtfully. Maybe I should start working out.
She was watching me searchingly for a moment. “Be careful, he's a womanizer.”
“I'm not interested in him.” I stared down at my cup, avoiding Amy’s eyes, and shrugged. “I just thought I should give him his i-Pod back.”
Amy grinned at me. “I think you need to get dressed, and I have to clean the mess that’s my apartment,” she said as she rose from the chair. I stood as well and hugged her. She grinned at me widely when she pulled back. “See you tomorrow morning!” she called over her shoulder as she walked out of my apartment.
I chanced a look at Bruno who was sitting next to my leg, watching me with his tongue wedged between his teeth. He probably wanted to go on his morning walk. It was almost ten o’clock by now. If I didn't hurry I wouldn’t manage to walk Bruno, go grocery shopping and head into the park to get some writing time in before I had to be ready for work at 5. I rushed towards my dresser, all the while trying to untangle my messy hair, and put on jeans and a white blouse. Grabbing a granola bar for breakfast, I put Bruno on his leash and hurried out of the apartment with him.
We got into the elevator, which smelled of pee and vomit. I’d been trapped in the thing twice before but I was too lazy to walk down the stairs. The air was crisp when I stepped out of the building, and I shivered in my thin blouse. I’d have to fetch my jacket before I headed towards the grocery store later. Bruno was sniffing the ground and raised his leg every few feet, as if he owned every inch of this place. My eyes kept darting up to the window of Adrian Black. Amy had said he was a womanizer. I wondered how she knew and what exactly it meant. I tore my gaze away, chiding myself for my irrational behavior. This obsession had to stop.
A few minutes later, Bruno was strapped into the basket at the front of my scooter, his doggy goggles protecting his eyes and his tongue lolling in the wind as I meandered through traffic. A few cars honked when I cut in front of them, but I ignored them. I wedged my scooter in the narrow gap between two cars in front of the small grocer. After I’d brought my groceries to my apartment, Bruno and I spent a few hours in the park. I was worried that thoughts of a certain man would stop me from working on my book, but I was actually able to ban him from my mind. Most of the time at least.
Now and then, my mind wandered back to what I'd witnessed the night before but most of the day I was too immersed in my book and later, during my job in the bar, I was too busy evading the groping hands and leery comments to think of Adrian Black.
This changed, however, the moment I returned into my apartment at 1 o'clock in the night.
My window seemed to taunt me with its mere presence while I changed into more comfortable clothes. I glared at it and pulled the curtains shut. Better safe than sorry. I didn't want to be tempted.
I made a midnight-snack salad of Avocado, tomatoes and lettuce for me, and ate it at the kitchen table. Bruno was pressed against my leg, but except for his breathing and the sound of my chewing, silence crowded the room. I wished Amy was here to talk about one of the new superfoods, but she was probably snuggled against Jared. Living alone, without my parents’s constant supervision, had felt like a dream come true when I first moved to New York. But after three years, I was so over it. I hated the way the walls closed in on me at night, how a cold bed greeted me when I came home from work.
Maybe I should just take a peek through the binoculars.
No.
I would resist. I wouldn't look. He probably had his curtains drawn tonight anyway. I wouldn't turn into a perverted peeping Tom.
I lay down on the small sofa pressed against the only free spot left in my apartment – between the stove and the bathroom door. Its flowery fabric smelled of dust and staleness. I turned on the TV to distract myself, scared to glance at my window and succumb to my silly desire. This unhealthy obsession had to stop. Maybe if I told myself that often enough, I’d really start to believe it.
That night I fell asleep on the sofa and the next morning my neck hurt like hell. But I decided it was worth it. After all, I’d resisted, even though my dreams had been made up of naked chests and golden hair.
Chapter Three
My fingers curled around the counter and I pressed my eyes shut, fighting the urge to grab a bottle and throw it at the head of the bastard who’d slapped my
butt twice this evening. But I needed this job and seriously injuring a customer with a bottle was probably exactly the reason Jack needed to kick me out. This day had been a fucking train-wreck from the moment I’d woken with a brain-splitting headache to the moment I’d arrived at work five minutes late and had to listen to Jack’s screaming.
“Puppet,” the slurred voice of Ass-slapper carried into my ears and I forced my eyes open with a deep breath. For a moment they lingered on the display of liquor towering above me but then I turned to the customer with a fake smile. He was sitting at the table closest to the bar and I had to pass him every time I delivered drinks to a table. Very clever. The guy was shit-faced. He was clutching the edge of the table to keep himself from toppling off his chair. I made my way toward him and he actually managed to lift his glass. “Be a doll and bring me another scotch.”
“I’m sorry, but I think you had enough,” I said, trying to sound as civil as humanly possible after five hours in this hellhole. The lights were dimmed as always and the smell of alcohol, stale smoke and sweat was heavy in the air. “Should I call a cab for you?”
The face of the man scrunched up. “I don’t want a fucking cab. I want a drink.”
I took a step back, away from his anger. “I’m sorry--” I began again but the man gripped my wrist, surprisingly steady for someone as drunk as him. Leon was already coming around the bar – he was our barkeeper and his talent was totally wasted in this place. But I shook Ass-slappers grip off and he half-fell forward, body convulsing and a wave of vomit spewed out of him and all over my legs and shoes.
“Oh fuck!” I stumbled back, fighting the sickness that shot through my body at the feeling of the hot vomit on my body. Leon appeared at my side and put a hand on my shoulder. His black brows drew together in concern when he looked into my face. His hair was pulled back in a short ponytail and he was wearing a shirt with palm trees that made him look like a member of the Beach Boys.