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“It’s the least I could do for my girl.”
Every time he called me that a piece of my heart went mushy. “If you want to be helpful, I need some things out of my apartment. You could meet me there later and carry a few things for me with those big muscles of yours.”
“Let me know when.”
When we hung up, I sensed that our gifting argument wasn’t over.
CHAPTER33
Alexa
Thursday afternoon,Evan had called to say he was back and leaving the airport.
I left work early enough to meet him at my apartment. There would be more than I wanted to carry myself. I hesitated outside my old door, dreading what I’d find inside and waited for the message since I also didn’t want to stay in there for long.
Mrs. Dorits from across the hall opened her door. “Did you lock yourself out, dear? I can call the super for you.”
“No thanks.” I held up my key. “I’m waiting for my boyfriend to arrive.” It felt oddly nice to say the wordsmy boyfriend. I should do that more often.
“I wouldn’t stay in the hallway too long. That red haired kid is around.”
“I won’t.” The mention of Pinky made my skin crawl.
She shook her head and retreated back inside her unit. She probably thought I was crazy.
EVAN: Be there in about five.
He was close, so I turned the key.
Inside it was just as bad as before, except now it stank of mildew. Going further in, I caught a drip hit the bathroom counter. The leak hadn’t been repaired, and neither had my ceiling.
After closing the door, the first thing I grabbed was my silver goal journal. Thank God it was in good shape. I started adding things from my closet to the bag, then stopped to make a call.
“Mr. Zhukov, this is Alexa Borelli. My apartment, well it looks like the leak still hasn’t been fixed and the ceiling—”
“Missy, I’ve been waiting on your call to set a date when you can let us in.” It was bullshit. He had a key.
I kept my voice calm. “Then we can do tomorrow.”
It sounded like he spit something on the other end. “Sorry. The only day Frank has available is Friday.”
“Tomorrow is Friday,” I reminded him.
“He’s already booked for tomorrow. I got ya down for next Friday.”
“How early?” I asked.
“Can’t say. Sometime Friday before the end of the day.”
Since getting mad at Zhukov might have been what got me here I kept my answer to one word, “Friday.” I didn’t scream until after hanging up. This was worse than dealing with the cable company.
I pulled open a dresser drawer, but yanked it too hard and it ended up on the floor. I started packing it up anyway, swearing at fucking Zhukov in my head.
“The place looks even worse than last time,” was the first thing Evan said when he and Albert arrived.
“It was better before this.” I raised my hands to the destroyed ceiling.
“Why hasn’t that been fixed, and this carpet…” He kicked at it. “Should have already been replaced. It’s not healthy.” He went on like that the whole time we packed things into trash bags.
