by Sky Corgan
When I do finally manage to get to sleep, I don't wake up until nearly noon. I groan as the rays of the sun cut through the blinds to burn into my retinas. If not for the fact that my stomach is rumbling angrily, I may have stayed in bed all day. As it is, I desperately need to go grocery shopping.
I pull myself out of bed and get dressed, licking my lips as I look at the plate of cookies still sitting on the kitchen island. For as much as I hate what they did to me in the past, I know they're delicious, and that makes them even more tempting.
“No.” I shake my head, taking the plate and sticking it in an empty cabinet so that they'll be out of sight. “I'll take you to work tomorrow to make a good impression.” What I really want to do is throw them away, but that would be too wasteful.
I sling my purse over my shoulder and step out of my apartment, casting a glance at Caleb's front door. Hopefully, we never cross paths. The less I see him, the better.
I've only taken a step down the hall towards the elevator when I notice a big steaming pile of dog shit just sitting there. A wicked grin crosses my lips, and I nod to myself. It's not big enough to belong to Caleb's husky, but that doesn't matter. I highly doubt that the apartment complex staff is going to take the time to come measure it.
I take the elevator downstairs and then detour to the apartment office. When I get there, I angrily inform the leasing agent that a dog pooped in the hallway of my building, then lie and say that I saw who did it. Once I've reported Caleb and his mutt, I happily head off to the grocery store to do my shopping. I know that reporting him once isn't going to be enough to get him kicked out of the complex, but it will be an inconvenience to him to get the warning. I decide then that every time I see poop in the hallway, I'll report him. If he gets enough warnings, they should fine him. Then maybe they'll eventually threaten to evict him. He'll get upset and decide to move out on his own, not wanting to deal with it anymore. I'll just have to wait until his lease is up. If I can get him kicked out before then, even better.
I finish my shopping and come home, feeling smug. Maybe life here will be okay after all.
***
Starting a new job has never been as exciting as it is today. Probably because I connect starting a new job to starting my new life. Besides, this is where I'll likely make my first friend now that my dreams of being friends with my neighbors have been dashed. In every television series I've ever seen, people always have a friend at work. Why should I be any different?
We're led into the training room, and I'm seated next to a gorgeous blonde who instantly introduces herself to me as Becky.
“I'm so excited.” She's practically bouncing in her seat. Her energy is infectious, and I can't help but smile.
“Me too.”
“This is my first job since high school.”
That admission makes me feel less joyous. I went to college to be a medical coder, yet here I am, working a data entry job with someone who doesn't even have any job experience. Boy, does that ever make me feel like a winner.
“Congratulations,” I tell her halfheartedly.
“Is this your first job, too?” Her blue eyes are wide and curious. It doesn't take me long to realize she's probably an airhead. The way she speaks is so sweet and innocent and bubbly. Her outfit isn't really work appropriate, but who am I to say anything. We're supposed to be wearing business casual, but her skirt screams look-at-my-legs.
“No, it's not my first job,” my voice trails off. Maybe she won't be my first friend either.
A man walks into the room, and as soon as I lay eyes on him, it's like a choir of angels comes down from the heavens and starts singing. His skin is porcelain perfection. He looks pristine in a navy suit, his posture impeccable. There's a confidence to the way that he walks that demands attention, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks. His jaw is square, his face clean shaven, and he has the most amazing brown eyes, so dark that they're almost black, matching his slicked down hair. My panties grow moist just from looking at him.
Becky squeals next to me before leaning over to whisper, “That's Peter Burgett. He's part owner of the company, and he's also going to be our trainer.”
I don't even need to ask if she finds him attractive. Her reaction to his entrance said it all. I wonder if she can tell that I find him attractive. Hell, I'm pretty sure all of the women in the room find him attractive. If it weren't for the angels singing, I probably would have been able to hear the collective swooning sigh.
Peter stands before us, his handsome face all serious business. As he begins to speak, he pulls his hands from his pockets to gesticulate. My gaze falls to his left hand, and I take note of the absence of a wedding band. From that point on, I barely hear anything that he says. All I keep thinking is that this is the man I'm going to marry.
***
I spend the day in a dreamlike state. I'm so loopy and distracted that I have to ask multiple questions during the training class. Every time that Peter speaks directly to me, I feel my heart soar. I'm really not sure if I've ever seen anyone more attractive or articulate in my entire life. He's perfection on legs. I want all of his attention, but I know that's greedy, and I also don't want him to think that I'm an idiot.
He stays strictly professional all day, his composure and ability to lead absolutely amazing. If he has a preference towards anyone in the class, he doesn't show it. He takes his time with those who don't understand what's going on while encouraging everyone else to move on when they can. Watching him is mesmerizing, and I'm thankful that it's an easy day so that I can spend most of my time perving on him.
I return home in the afternoon with a smile on my face, determined that nothing can mess up my day. When I get to the third floor of my building, I notice that the dog shit has been cleaned up. I hope that Caleb had to pick it up, even though it didn't belong to his dog. More than likely, though, one of the maintenance guys cleaned it up when he was making his rounds. They seem to stay pretty on top of taking care of the place.
As I look down the hall, I notice that a lot of the residents have their trash cans sitting out. We have valet trash service that comes by every evening from Monday through Friday. I'll have to remember to put mine out, I think as I shove my key into the lock. By the time I've turned the key, a new vindictive idea has come to me. I cast a glance over my shoulder, wondering if Caleb is home. Regardless, I'll have to work quickly and carefully if I want to carry out my plan.
I set my trash out before glancing down the hall to make sure that no one is around. Then I scurry next door to grab Caleb's trash can and bring it into my apartment. My heart pounds as I close the door behind me, thinking that I'm going a bit too far.
The trashcan has his apartment number affixed to the side of it with a sticker. If his trash were to get strewn all over the apartment grounds, he'd probably get in trouble for it.
I take the trash can out onto my balcony, thankful that the back of my apartment faces the forest. I hazard a quick glance around to make sure that no one is watching me, then I toss his entire trash can over the side of my balcony. It hits the grass with a sickening cracking sound. I scowl as I realize that the bag didn't break. It just rolled out onto the ground. No matter. He'll still be bothered with having to figure out where it went. Just the thought of causing him stress makes me feel giddy.
I make myself a salad and settle in front of the television, content with wasting my evening away and fantasizing about my sexy boss. I'm not the girl I used to be. I'm pretty now. More confident. Surely, there's some way to make him mine. I just need to figure it out.
There's a knock on the door, startling me from the reality TV show I've been engrossed in. It's a show about couples who are married at first sight. I had thought about auditioning for it, but they always make the girls wear bikinis when they go on their honeymoon, and while I'm skinny, I definitely don't have a bikini body.
I silently curse whoever is at the door. The apartment office is closed now, so there's no telling who
it could be. As I walk towards the door, I debate on whether or not I should open it if it's someone I don't recognize. Then I think about how my one neighbor didn't open the door to me and it hurt my feelings. I don't want to be like that. I don't want to be paranoid or rude. Besides, who knows, it could be someone welcoming me to the complex.
It's not someone welcoming me to the complex though. When I glance out the peephole, I scowl as I see Caleb standing there. Then panic clutches at my heart as I wonder if he saw what I did to his trash can or if someone reported me.
I stand there for several seconds, debating on whether or not to open the door. I don't want trouble, but I kind of brought it on myself. If he's coming to confront me about the trash can, I'll lash out at him and explain why I did it. That asshole needs to know what he did to me, and that a little bit of spilled garbage isn't nearly enough revenge.
I take a deep breath and fling open the door, holding my head up high, ready to chew him out. My gaze falls to something in his hand, and my expression contorts in confusion.
“Hi there.” He holds the box up to me. “Um, I wasn't sure if you had a chance to get groceries yet, so I was wondering if you wanted to eat this pizza with me?”
“No,” I reply almost automatically, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Oh. Do you not like pizza?” He arches an eyebrow.
“I already ate,” I inform him, hoping I don't look suspicious.
The smell of cheese wafts up from the box to invade my nostrils. My stomach growls in response. It smells absolutely delicious.
Caleb lets out a small laugh. “Your stomach sounds like it's still hungry.”
“I'm on a diet.” I turn my nose up to him. “I can't eat such things.”
“Oh, well...” he hesitates. “I was going to ask if you wanted me to leave a few slices with you. I'm kind of on a diet too, but it's been a stressful past few days, so I figured I could splurge.” When I don't respond, he continues, “Speaking of stressful days, you didn't happen to see my trash can out here when you came in? I don't know what time—”
“No, I didn't,” I cut him off. “Thanks for the offer. I'm busy.” I shut the door in his face, leaving him standing there.
As soon as the door is closed, I whimper softly. My God, that pizza smelled so good. Now I don't want my salad anymore. Asshole. Coming over and trying to sabotage me.
Maybe he remembers who I am. Perhaps that's why he came over and tried to feed me pizza. He's mocking me. I just know he is. I step away from the door and glare at it.
Not going to work, Caleb Ryan. I'm glad you had a shitty day. You're going to have many more for as long as you live here.
I return to the sofa and sit, brooding. All of my happiness was erased by that douchebag showing up. I swear he's determined to zap away every little bit of joy that I manage to grasp.
I don't think I can wait for his lease to be up. I need him out sooner, because I just know I'll never be happy as long as he's my neighbor. And so, I make it my goal to do something nasty to him every single day that we live next door to one another.
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