You Again?
Delaney
At the sight of her, my jaw dropped. Then her jaw dropped. Her eyes narrowed and she said with a little sniff, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."
She was still standing in the elevator. I was still waiting to get inside. Except I couldn't, because she was standing so near the doors, I'd have to grease myself up to slide past her.
And when she finally did move, it was only to take a single step forward and plant herself squarely in the elevator doorway.
What the heck?
Even grease wouldn't help me now.
She hitched her purse higher and said, "Well?"
I shook my head. "Well what?"
"What do you have to say for yourself?"
She was wearing the same pearls and tailored pantsuit she'd been wearing earlier, when she'd caught me grubbing in the garbage. Reluctantly, I looked down, taking in my own appearance.
Shit.
Unable to stop myself, I blurted out, "I just spilled my coffee."
Her mouth tightened. "Your coffee?"
"What does that mean?"
She smirked. "Are you sure it wasn't some coffee you found?"
Found where? And then, it hit me. Eww. I made a face. "No. Because I don't grub in the garbage for coffee – or burgers either. And that goes double for this morning."
She looked distinctly unconvinced. "Nice story. But I saw you."
Damn it. "Yeah, I know." I sighed. "But it wasn't what it looked like. I was just looking for a receipt."
This earned me another smirk. "In a burger bag?"
"No. Under the burger bag." I gave her a pleading look. "Now, can I please get on the elevator?"
She didn't budge. "No."
In spite of her attitude, the reply caught me off-guard. "Uh…seriously?"
Her chin lifted. "I'm afraid I'll need your name."
I stared in disbelief. "Why?"
"Because you've been prowling through the building all weekend."
Prowling?
She was one to talk.
And besides, I'd only arrived just yesterday. I gave her a look. "Yeah, well…so have you."
This made her sputter. "What?"
I crossed my arms. "I'm just saying…every time I turn around, there you are."
"Yes, because I live here."
"Yeah, well…maybe…I do, too?" Crap. That wasn't supposed to come out as a question.
Like a shark sensing blood, she demanded, "Do you? Or do you not?"
"Maybe I'm…visiting someone?"
"Oh, really?" Her gaze dropped rudely to my stained sweater, which no amount of arm-crossing could hide. "Looking like that?" She said "that" like I was covered in goo and gore.
I refused to look down. "Hey, the sweater was fine when I arrived."
With a brittle laugh, she asked, "Arrived where?"
I wasn't following. "Sorry…what?"
"Are you referring to your arrival yesterday, when you dumped dirt all over the lobby? Or your arrival today, here on the top floor?" She gave me a thin smile. "On the penthouse level, for reasons I'm sure you have no interest in explaining."
Good Lord. I drew back. "What exactly are you accusing me of?"
"You tell me."
"I can't, because I'm not a mind-reader."
Just then, the elevator gave an impatient ding. Both doors slid inward until they bumped lightly against Mrs. Stelter before retreating back again.
She didn't even flinch. And she sure as heck didn't budge. Apparently, she was willing to stand there all afternoon.
My gaze strayed to the second elevator a few feet away. What would happen if I pressed the down button? Would the second elevator even arrive while the first was held hostage?
When I looked back to Mrs. Stelter, she was reaching into her purse. She pulled out a crumpled bill and thrust it in my direction.
Ten dollars. I stared at the cash. "What are you doing?"
"It's food money," she said. "Take it."
I literally recoiled. "What? No."
With an exaggerated sigh, she said, "There's no need to be proud. Get yourself a hot meal, and clean yourself up, will you?"
Well, that wasn't insulting or anything.
I was bristling now. "Excuse me?"
"Just do it in a different building, alright?"
My face burned as I stiffly told her, "I don't want your money."
"It's fine. Really." She looked absurdly pleased with herself. "I give to the soup kitchen every week. I'll just take the money from that."
Terrific. So now I'd be stealing soup from someone who actually needed it. "Save it for them," I told her. "I already have soup."
It wasn't even a lie. Down in Tessa's fridge sat a whole container of lobster bisque, courtesy of Maddox. It wasn't even leftover soup from dinner, but a second serving Maddox had ordered to-go after I'd loved the first bowl so much.
I heard myself add, "And it's lobster bisque, too."
Oh, for God's sake. Why was I justifying myself to this woman? I held up a hand. "You know what? Never mind. I'll just take the stairs."
I turned away, saying a silent prayer of thanks that I'd noticed the stairway door earlier while heading into the penthouse with Maddox.
Of course, I hadn't expected to be needing those stairs. Still, trudging down nine flights would be a small price to pay to avoid any more humiliation.
I didn't bother looking back, not even when Mrs. Stelter called out, "At least the soup kitchen is grateful!"
My hand itched to flip her the bird. But I didn't dare. For all I knew, I'd be running into her again.
Heaven help me.
Instead, I stomped down nine whole flights until I reached the seventh floor. By the time I reached the door to Tessa's apartment, I was sweaty and out of breath.
The trip wasn't even that long. Probably, I was panting with rage – assuming that was a thing.
Inside Tessa's apartment, I stripped off the sweater, found some laundry detergent, and filled Tessa's kitchen sink with soapy water before dropping my sweater in to soak.
I gave it a worried look. Would the coffee stain come out?
Probably not.
On the upside, at least the sweater was my own – as opposed to the cocktail dress I'd borrowed last night. I would need to clean that, too, but not right now, because already, I'd been gone longer than expected.
Still, I took a few extra minutes to hop in the shower for a quick rinse before putting on a fresh shirt and black leggings to replace the splattered jeans.
Finally, I left Tessa's apartment and stood for a long moment in the hallway, my gaze bouncing between the stairway and the elevator. If I took the stairs, I'd arrive hot and sweaty. But if I took the elevator, I'd be risking another run-in with Mrs. Stelter.
In the end, I took the stairs, going slow to avoid overheating. When I reached the top floor, I opened the stairway door just wide enough to poke out my head and look both ways.
No Mrs. Stelter.
But that didn't mean I was out of the woods.
The penthouse level had only two units – the one where Maddox was waiting and the other belonging to my new nemesis. The two doors weren't directly across from each other, but they were still close enough to make me nervous.
I bit my lip. The last thing I needed was another ugly scene, especially in front of Maddox. Finally, I just made a run for it, bolting straight for Maddox's door and knocking as softly as I dared.
If I was lucky, he'd hear me and answer quickly.
And if I was unlucky?
At this rate, it would hardly be a surprise.