Page 55 of No Headlines Please

"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.