5. Oliver
Oliver
A banging noise woke me. I rolled off the bed, my feet hitting the hardwood floor. I scrubbed my hand over my face as I caught a glimpse of my alarm clock. Who would be making such a ruckus before seven in the morning?
Shuffling to the window, I grabbed a T-shirt and pulled it on over my head.
Nothing going on in the street out front.
I checked the side window before heading to the back.
I’d moved into the loft apartment over the bar when the last bartender left.
Wyatt didn’t have a need for the space, so the rent was more than reasonable, and it made it convenient to be so close to work.
Usually it was nice and quiet this early on a weekday morning.
The banging came again. Sounded like it was coming from the other side of my living room wall.
That could only mean one thing. Trinity must be moving stuff in.
I hadn’t seen her since I’d left her standing in her friend’s outrageous condo a few days ago.
I almost thought she was going to kiss me then.
But she hadn’t, and I’d gone about my business wondering when I might get to see her again.
Looked like today might be my lucky day.
I stepped into the jeans I’d left on the chair by my bed last night and made my way to the kitchen.
Coffee. I’d make a pot of coffee and head over to offer her some.
That seemed like a neighborly thing to do.
Back home our closest neighbors were at least five kilometers away, which meant I hadn’t had very many opportunities to show my neighborly side.
After I’d run a toothbrush over my teeth and a comb through my hair, I stood on the sidewalk out front, peering in through the thick windows, a travel mug of coffee in hand.
No signs of life came from inside. I knocked, my knuckles landing on the tall wooden door.
While I waited, I tried to imagine what kind of business Trinity was going to be opening in the space.
She’d said it wasn’t an art gallery, but it must have something to do with art, otherwise where would Wyatt have gotten that idea?
I got tired of waiting so I picked my way through the narrow alley to try the back door.
The large overhead door on the dock sat about two feet open.
I scooted under it and found myself in a tiny receiving area.
The air smelled like it hadn’t been disturbed in a long time.
Too bad we didn’t have a dock on our side of the building.
It would make deliveries so much easier.
“Hello? Trinity?” I glanced from left to right as I entered the main part of the building.
Her space mirrored the layout of Tapped.
It was like someone had drawn a line straight down the middle of the building and split it in two.
The walls, the floors—it was all the same.
No wonder Wyatt was so desperate to get the space.
All he’d have to do was knock the wall out and he’d double his square footage.
The banging started up again. Seemed to be coming from the floor above.
I looked for a staircase. As my gaze drifted around the room, I caught sight of an ancient freight elevator.
Would be nice to have that on our side too.
Even though the floor above Tapped only held my apartment and some storage space, it would be helpful to be able to use the elevator instead of the stairs.
I pressed the call button, but nothing happened. The banging came again. Three loud strikes of what sounded like metal on metal. I glanced up. Could it be coming from inside the elevator shaft?
“Trinity?” I yelled louder. A muffled noise reached me. I tried to pry the doors of the elevator shaft open. Managing to separate them by a few inches, I yelled into the space. “Trinity?”
“I’m stuck in the elevator,” she called down. “In between the second and third floor.”
“Hold on. I’ll figure out a way to get you out of there.
” I let the doors snap closed. There had to be something I could do.
I found the stairs and raced up to the second floor.
The heavy doors should have been closed but they gapped with a few inches in between.
I grabbed onto the thick leather straps and wrestled them together.
Immediately, the whir of the elevator began.
She must have been going from the third floor to the second because while I stood there, the doors parted. Trinity raised the grate and leaped out of the elevator box, wrapping me in a tight hug.
“Are you okay?” I smoothed a hand over her hair, surprised at how she’d flung her arms around me.
Immediately, she backed off, letting her arms fall to her sides. “Yeah, I’m fine. Wow, what a morning. What are you doing here so early?”
I hooked a thumb to the wall behind me. “I live over the bar.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Right next door?”
“Yeah. How long have you been in there?”
She pushed up a long sleeve and glanced at her watch. “About forty-five minutes.”
“Sorry I didn’t hear you sooner. Getting an early start today?”
“Yeah. I have an appointment later and wanted to drop some things off while I had use of Macy’s car. Thanks again for letting me out.”
“You need some help?” It was then I looked toward the elevator. Body pieces littered the floor. An arm here, a leg there. I cocked my head, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
“They’re mannequins.” Trinity cautiously stepped back into the elevator. “For sizing and display.”
“Oh.” Now that she mentioned it, I noticed the body parts were made of molded plastic, something that wasn’t initially obvious due to the low lighting.
“Here.” She tossed me a mangled arm. “I tried to use Mindy’s arm to pry the door open.”
“Mindy?” I caught it with one hand. As I did, the wrist snapped, and the mannequin hand clattered along the wooden floorboards.
“They all have names. Mindy, Cindy and Wendy. Makes it easier to tell them apart.” She continued to gather body parts in her arms and scoot them off the elevator.
“Great.” I retrieved Mindy’s hand and added it to the stack. “How many friends do you have in there?”
She stepped out and prodded me with a plastic arm. “Stop looking at me like I’m some kind of psycho. It’s not like I eat dinner with them or take them out shopping with me.”
In the moment, I wasn’t sure if that made me feel any better. “So you were just moving the girls in and the elevator quit on you?”
“Yes.” She stopped in front of me, her arms full of legs.
A thick strand of hair had worked its way out of the bandana she’d tied over her hair. She tried to blow it off her forehead. It fluttered back, covering one eye.
“Can I help you with that?” I reached for the strand as she nodded. Tucking it into place, I let my finger trace the shell of her ear. At least a dozen holes pierced the cartilage. “Did that hurt?”
“What, you putting my hair behind my ear?” she teased.
“No, all those piercings.” Tiny hoops stacked one on top of the other.
“Those didn’t hurt at all compared to the tattoo.” She grinned before depositing the remaining body parts on the pile with the rest of them.
I tried to imagine what kind of tattoo she might have and where. “Let me guess. A tramp stamp on your lower back? A dolphin?”
“No. Not even close.” She turned around, lifting the edge of her shirt and exposing a sliver of bronzed skin, unadorned by ink.
My gut flipped at the sight. How did we go from talking about her fake plastic body parts to playing show and tell with her real ones? “I believe you. Where is it then?”
She let her shirt fall then turned to face me. “Maybe someday I’ll show you. Maybe not.”
I grinned. She was obviously taunting me, but two could play at that game. Hell, I’d invented it. “Maybe someday I’d be interested in seeing it. Maybe not.”
“Touche.” Her finger poked me in the chest.
Before she could snatch it away, I wrapped my hand around hers and squeezed. “You’re pretty sassy for so early in the morning.”
She glanced up at me through thick, long lashes. “How do you know this isn’t just my typical disposition?”
I let her hand fall away. “Now that you mention it, I think you’re onto something there.”
“Hey”—she slid the mannequin parts away from the elevator with her feet—“as much as I’d love to sit here and chat with you about body adornments, I have things I need to do.”
“Such as?” I widened my stance, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Top priority, coffee.”
“Oh, I’ve got you covered there.”
She quirked a brow. “Really? An elevator rescue and a coffee coup all in the same morning?”
“I brought you a travel mug, but I left it downstairs.”
“Well then what are we waiting for?” She reached up to grab the grate of the elevator and pulled it down before shutting the metal outer doors. “Show me the way.”
I pushed through the door to the stairwell, and we traipsed down the metal steps. When we reached the first floor, I retrieved my travel mug and handed it to her, only realizing then that I’d grabbed the one my sister had given me.
“Sorry I can’t, I have plans with my sheep?” Trinity asked as she read the front of the mug. She held it out in front of her, like it might contaminate her if she dared to take a sip.
My cheeks heated. “It’s a joke. My little sister gave it to me.”
“Because your social life revolves around your sheep? You weren’t kidding when we talked about pretending I was a lamb the other day, huh?”
Somehow, my face flamed even hotter. What seemed like a humorous holiday prank now made me look like some sheep-loving pervert.
Desperate to explain myself, I tried not to stutter.
“It’s a nickname. She calls me the black sheep of the family since she’s blonde and so are my parents.
” I ran my hand through my dark brown, almost black hair. “Get it? Black sheep?”
She smiled as she lifted the mug to her mouth. “Oh, I get it. I just like seeing you blush.”
Damn, this woman always seemed to get the better of me. How did she do it? I’d only known her a few days and, in that time, I’d probably blushed more than I had in my entire adult life.
Her throat moved up and down as she took a sip. She sputtered, forcing down a swallow. The coffee. I’d probably not put enough sugar or cream in it.
“Sorry, I didn’t know how you take it,” I said. “It’s the coffee, isn’t it?”
“It’s all right. I appreciate the gesture.” She set the cup down on top of a ledge that stuck out from the wall. “Come on, let’s go grab some real coffee. My treat for saving me from the elevator.”
Coffee. With Trinity. I had time before my eleven o’clock class. Why not? It would give me a chance to get to know her better and continue my quest to try to figure out her plans.
“Sounds good,” I agreed. “You want to take my bike, or…”
“I’ve got Macy’s car, I’ll drive.” She linked her arm through mine. Her hand drifted down my arm, catching my fingers in hers. “Black.”
“What?” I’d been distracted by the way her soft skin felt against mine. “Black what?”
She gazed up at me through half-closed lids, a smug smile dancing across her lips. “My coffee. I take it black. Same way you like your sheep, right?”