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"Is it Friday yet?" I mutter as the elevator slowly inches up. I grimace as I look down at my shoes. Why did I do it? I shake my head. My feet are killing me. I knew this would happen, but I still wore the heels to work.
Why don’t men have to suffer like this? No, they get to wear flat shoes with nice arched soles while we parade on stilts, trying to walk in a sexy, straight line.
"We fly out on Sunday, remember?" Julian adds.
"I know. I still need to pack." Looks like I'll be packing bandages for my feet now.
"I told you we should have canceled the meeting," he adds as he pulls his tie free from his neck.
I sigh, "And miss a chance to fly on your jet again? Not happening," I kid.
The elevator dings open, and we make our way to Julian's apartment. My eyes find the door to mine. A shiver runs down my spine, and my feet slow to a crawl. I haven’t been back inside since they found the cameras.
Each step closer to his door heightens my anxiety, my mind replaying the violation of my privacy. The walls seem to close in, and my breathing becomes shallow. I can't shake the fear that someone is still watching, waiting for me to let my guard down.
"Do you want me to get anything?" Julian offers. His eyes know exactly what I'm thinking sometimes.
"No, I’m fine. Harper packed a lot of stuff," I reply, looking long at my door.
Harper packed me a bag so I didn’t have to go back inside. Speaking of Harper, she’s been unusually content as she crashes at Kent’s place. I know if I push her into telling me about what’s going on between her and Kent, she will only run faster. So, I’m waiting for her to come to me. In the meantime, she told me she’s using her vacation hours to take time off work so she can help Daniel with the Andrew issue.
I swallow, "I don’t know if I can go back inside there, Julian."
He steps closer to me. "You don’t have to. Shit, I should have thought about this sooner, but if you don’t want to stay in the building, we don’t have to either. We can move anywhere you want."
"Like officially move in together?"
"Have you seen my kitchen? I can never let you go, Pumpkin. I can’t go back to living in a label-free apartment." He smiles, and his grey eyes look lighter, like clouds after a rain shower.
I giggle. "Thanks," I needed to laugh. I needed to allow Julian to chase away my fears. I also needed to know he didn't think I went overboard, even if I knew I did; I just got carried away in the evening after two glasses of wine. My fingers felt loose, and I kept making labels.
With his hand on my lower back, we continue down the hall, passing by my door like it’s not even there. He unlocks his door, looking inside before he allows me to enter. The clanging of pots and pans echoes from his kitchen.
Julian grins.
"What’s going on?" I ask with apprehension.
"Harper wanted to surprise you," he whispers.
"Kent! What the hell? You're doing it completely wrong. Can’t you read?" Harper shouts.
"I did read it, woman!" Kent growls.
Julian grimaces, "It might not be a good surprise."
I chuckle. "Did you let Harper in your kitchen?"
His brow rises, "I’m guessing that wasn’t wise?"
I can’t help but giggle as I clutch my stomach. "Well, the building is still standing…for now. Did I forget to tell you we had to move dorms because she set the first room we got on fire?"
Julian's eyes widen, and he begins to rush towards his kitchen. I follow behind him but stop in my tracks once we reach it. Holy lord. Every cabinet, which I organized and labeled, is open. A bag of flour has been knocked over on the floor; footprints are stomped through it and then carried out like a crime scene all over the room.
"Is that an egg on the wall?" I mutter. Behind Kent’s head is the stain of egg yolk with some broken shells stuck to the wall.
"What the hell?” Julian groans as he tugs at his hair.
It gets worse, though. The oven is on, but the door is wide open. You can feel the heat from it filling the room like a sauna.
