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“It’s not that bad.” She balanced on one foot for a second to prove her point.
She looked ready to blow, so I avoided putting the match to the fuse. “Text me when you’re safely inside your unit.”
“Any other demands, boss?”
“Please text me, and be careful with that check.”
She nodded and clutched her purse tighter.
“I’ll call you. Oh, and…” I pulled a card out and quickly wrote Albert’s cell on it. “Here is Albert’s number if you need to go somewhere.”
She shook her head and backed away as I extended the card. “No, I can’t. This is too weird.”
I stepped forward and shoved it at her. “This is not optional. It comes with the territory.”
With a sigh she took the card. “I don’t like you or your territory, and I’m not going to use it.”
She hadn’t lost any of her stubbornness, but Shakespeare’s line came to mind.Perhaps this lady doth protest too much. I shrugged. “Just in case.”
The slight cock of her head wasn’t the same as agreeing, but without a verbal argument, it was close enough. “Goodnight, Evan.” She waved at Albert. “And thank you too, Albert.”
He nodded back. “My pleasure, Miss Borelli.”
“It’s Alexa, please,” she insisted.
I hadn’t noticed until now, but none of my dates had ever asked Albert to use their first names. They probably thought it was a privilege of rank to be addressed formally.Interesting.
“Good night, Allie.” I caught her smiling for a second at my use of her old nickname. As she walked to the door of her building, my eyes focused on the sway of her hips. She had a fine ass. Too bad she hated my guts.
Why am I thinking that?She was my fake girlfriend, the only woman in the city who was completely off limits. She’d been clear about that, and I had my own reasons anyway.
The question was, would she look back when she reached the door?
She did.
I waved before climbing back into the car.
A minute later, as we waited, a group of kids came out of the building yammering and yelling, shoving one another.
Albert locked the doors.
I waited for her call, phone in hand.
Albert glanced back. “I don’t feel good about this neighborhood.”
“Neither do I.”
He pulled up a number on his phone. “Hey, Stan, Albert here. I need a threat assessment.” He rattled off Alexa’s address. “Yeah… Thanks.” He hung up. “We’ll have it tomorrow,” he told me.
* * *
Alexa
My ankle was still sore,but I made a point of not limping all the way to the door of my building and inside. In the stairwell, I allowed myself to limp. I was jittery with excitement as I mounted the stairs to my floor.
Then I heard the voices. Teenage boys coming down from above—and drunk from the sound of them. When one of them called another Pinky, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end and the pain in my ankle was suddenly unimportant. Pinky had just gotten out of jail again. He was perpetually mad at the world—and bad news.
The police had assured me he’d be tried for a felony this last time and sent away for years. Instead Pinky had pleaded down to a minor charge, and the fact that I’d made a statement to the cops hadn’t set well with him or his friends.
