13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Lane
Lately, my Friday afternoons are lighter.
I think it’s Tage’s doing. He’s somehow reworking my schedule to allow me less to do at the end of the week.
Maybe it’s a gift to me. Maybe it’s a gift to himself, since he is always by my side.
Either way, I don’t hate it. Everything still gets done, and the beginning of my week doesn’t feel cramped or rushed.
It’s been a good week. He’s gone out to lunch with me every day without an argument.
Each day, the conversation has grown in depth, and he’s even started talking more about himself instead of just listening to me ramble.
He doesn’t give away much—if anything—but it’s nice hearing him talk, regardless.
We’re growing closer. Not dramatically, but slowly.
Tage doesn’t talk about his friends or family, nor does he ask about mine, which tells me the topic is off the board and not an option. That’s okay. We don’t have to get that deep yet.
A bang from the other side of my door catches my attention, and I get up to check on Tage and make sure he hasn’t fallen over or is in need of help.
I pause with my hand on the doorknob when I hear his voice.
“This is the third time I’ve called,” he growls quietly. “I don’t understand what the problem is.”
My feet stay rooted to the spot as I lean in closer to hear what he’s saying.
“Yes, I know that, but they didn’t fix it. It’s running all the time now. They made it worse! Sometimes it screeches and wakes me up in the middle of the night.”
For a moment, I have no idea what the hell he’s talking about, but then it hits me.
Toilet.
He must be having problems at the new apartment. I hate building owners that aren’t on top of their facilities, and I hope he didn’t end up in an apartment run by one.
“Look, I don’t know who I have to call to get this done, but I will complain to every person I can find,” he spits out, then I hear something that sounds like a cell phone being dropped hard onto the desk.
I release the knob and step back.
Everything in me is telling me to go out there and fix it for him, but it’ll only put him in a bad mood. He’ll argue, tell me it’s fine. So, I’ll have to catch him off guard.
Tonight. When he’s home and has nowhere to run.
I go back to my computer and search for his employee file to grab his address. Illegal, yes, but sometimes you have to do things that are, well, illegal for the greater good.
The rest of the day is spent going through emails and reports. As he usually does, Tage knocks on my door and says goodbye at exactly five. I give him a smile and wave, like I usually do, and don’t speak a word of how I’ll see him soon. Like, in an hour, maybe. Hopefully, he plans to go right home.
The apartment building is an average-looking six-tenement in a decent—and I use that word lightly—neighborhood.
He could do better, but all in good time, I suppose.
I don’t know what rent goes for these days, but he’s aware I’d give him a higher salary if he needed it.
Problem is, he’s too proud. But that’s okay, I guess.
He’s got his own place; he’s figuring it out.
One day, maybe he won’t have this apartment at all.
Maybe he’ll be living somewhere else… closer to me. Like inside my house. You never know.
The front door is locked, so I have no way of getting up to his floor without him knowing. I could ring his bell and say it’s me, but then he may not let me in. I could pretend to be someone else and hope he’ll ring me in. Or I could—
The heavy door is yanked open with the force of a large man, only there is a tiny old woman on the other side.
“Oh, good evening, sir,” she says with a bright smile. “You’re the cute one who just moved into the empty apartment. Lost your keys already?”
I raise a brow, wondering if she’s talking about Tage or someone else. We don’t look alike, but if her eyesight isn’t great…
“Yes, I misplaced them already.” I hold my hands up, then drop them to my sides and laugh.
“Well don’t you worry, honey. I’ll let you in. And if you ever forget them again, just ring my bell. I’m in 1A.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” I reach for the door.
She waves me off and hurries down the steps quicker than I’d think someone of her age could go steadily.
When I’m inside the cramped hallway, I stop and look back over my shoulder. What luck.
It’s fate.
There is no elevator, but I guess three floors is normal for a building. The stairs are to the left, so I head up them to the second floor and find apartment 2B, which is where Tage lives, according to his file.
His door looks exactly like the other one, nothing outside of it to show he lives there or cares to decorate. He does seem like the simple type, but even his desk has a plant and a dinosaur tape dispenser. I’d expect a welcome sign on his door or one of those fancy wreaths.
I knock twice, then stand and wait. I hear shuffling on the other side, then muttering. Then the door is pulled open and Tage’s glare is on me.
“What are you doing here?” he grits out.
“Ah, the annoyance. I’ve missed this from you.”
I push my way inside before he can say another word, and he doesn’t do much to stop me.
I look around. It’s bigger than I thought it would be, but still too small.
It’s furnished with basic furniture you can get online with minimal decorations on the walls or elsewhere.
I guess if this is new, it takes time to accumulate things.
“Hello?” he growls. “I asked what are you doing here?”
My gaze goes down the hall, and that’s when I hear it. I unbutton my sleeves and roll them up as I make my way down the hall to find the bathroom, where the running toilet gets even louder.
Screeching is right. Who is sleeping through that?
“Oh no. You’re kidding. You are kidding!” he shouts. Not in an angry way, but more disbelief.
I don’t say a word as I take the top off the toilet and rest it on the ground.
“What the hell, Lane? Are you eavesdropping on my phone calls now? Wait—have you always done that?” he hisses.
I ignore him as I stick my hand inside to feel around for all the parts. It’s all old, and he could probably use some new insides, but it is the landlord’s responsibility, so he shouldn’t have to pay for it.
I could pay for it, but that may result in an attitude from him for weeks, and we’re finally at a good place. Do I want to risk that to help him sleep at night? Kind of.
“Lane!” he shouts, grabbing my arm and yanking it out of the toilet, making water splash on me, him, and the floor.
“Was that necessary?” I complain.
“Yes!” His eyes are frantic, like I’m just a random person who doesn’t belong here. I don’t see what the problem is and why he’s so upset. “Tell me why the hell you’re here.”
“To fix your toilet.”
“I—you—” He lets out a frustrated sound, letting his head fall back. When he looks at me again, he seems slightly calmer. “Have you been listening to my phone calls?” His tone is even, but I can tell he’s forcing himself to be calm.
“No, I just happened to overhear the one from today. You didn’t sound happy, and I knew I could help.”
“You—” He looks from me to the toilet, then back to me. “You know how to fix a toilet?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m surprised you don’t. Now can I do my magic here, or are you going to assault me again?”
“Assault?” he snaps. “Are you—”
I grin, and he cuts off his words. Finally, a smile crosses his lips.
I smile back. He moves toward the door, leaning against the frame and crossing his arms to watch me. It shouldn’t be sexual, but it brings me back to the hotel. Still, I ignore it and get back to work.
After a moment or two, he speaks.
“Lane?” I look over my shoulder to see what he wants. “Do you like pizza?”
I huff a laugh. “Who doesn’t?”
Nodding, he leaves the room, and I focus on fixing his toilet.