“I could have been anyone.” My voice is louder than intended. “The purpose of an intercom is to askwho’s there. Is that so hard?”
“How dare you?” Her chin angles skyward. “You have no right to lecture me on how I answer my door.”
“You need a goddamn lecture. You’re lucky it was me.”
“That’s debatable. I think I’d rather take my chances with a burglar.”
“A burglar should be the least of your worries. They want things, money—shit that doesn’t matter. You have far more to lose.”
Dammit, I need to calm down and shut up before I reveal too much.
“You’re right, Jasper.” Her demeanor and tone suddenly soften. “I assumed it was you, but I should have asked. I guess it’s because I think living in the suburbs is safe. That’s one of the reasons I chose Brockville over the city. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t take reasonable precautions.”
Well, hell. Just when I’m firmly entrenched in my views about her being a smart-ass, big mouth with an overinflated sense of herself, she has to go throw a wrench in my preconceptions by turning all temperate and agreeable. The least I can do is meet her halfway.
“I’m glad to hear that, Ms. Sinclair. And I do apologize. I could have made my point with greater finesse.”
“Thank you, Jasper.” Her mouth curves up in a smile that punches my gut like a boxer on speed. “Truce?”
Suspicious of her about-face, I curtly nod my head and get down to business for my own sanity. “To confirm, I’m going to install the cameras on the exterior and in the common areas, change the front lock to a keyless system, and install an alarm panel in your apartment. Something simple and easy to use with magnets on your front door and windows.”
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
“It’s routine for me. I’ll have it all done today. But you might want to advise your tenants about the new lock.”
“Oh yeah, good idea. I’ll message them before I go. It is okay that I leave, right? I have a Pilates class at noon.”
An image of her body twisting into a sexual pretzel with me in the center comes to mind. “That’s fine.” Annoyed by the direction of my thoughts, my voice has developed some edge, which has her eyebrows lifting. “I won’t need access to your apartment until later.”
“Okay then. Can I get you water or anything?”
“No, thank you.” And as usual, I make a quick getaway before my response to her offer of anything involves taking her on a hard surface with her peach-round ass in the air.
Questioning my judgment, I return to my truck to map out the best locations for the cameras. Once done, I grab the ladder out of the cab when Jordyn Sinclair comes jogging down the stairs with a headband holding back her auburn bangs and a gym bag over one shoulder. She glances at me and does that finger wave thing that is somehow more intimate than a hand wave. I avert my gaze and pretend not to notice.
* * *
“Young man, a word, please?”
The interruption comes after two hours of installation. The front and sides of the house are complete, and I’d just gotten started on the back. Lowering the power drill, I look down the ladder to a huffy woman with her lips pursed. She stands beside a man in black sweats, the hoodie pulled over his head. It’s hot as Hades out here, and this dude’s fully cloaked like Darth Vader.
“Is there something I can do for you, ma’am?”
“I just got home and saw this email.” She waves a sheet of paper. “Where is Jordyn?”
Normally I wouldn’t get involved with a tenant-landlord issue, but recognizing them as the mother and son team, I climb down to give them a closer inspection. “Ms. Sinclair isn’t here.”
“I’m aware of that. Do you know when she’s returning?”
“No, ma’am.”
“I kindly ask that you stop until I can speak with her.”
I do a mental double-take at this woman’s gall. “What is your issue, exactly?”
“Cameras are an invasion of privacy.” She crosses her arms militantly over her chest.
“I can assure you that the location of all the cameras comply with privacy laws.”
