“Say goodnight, Georgie. Love you. Write a great book.”
“Night, Zo.” I hang up. Yeah, I definitely need some rest.
Later, after I’ve washed and had a glass of water, I drag myself up the staircase, collapsing into the plaid-flannel-clad bed I find in the little loft area up there. Maybe it’s just because I’m so damn exhausted, but cozy under the down comforter, I could swear these are the softest sheets I have ever felt in my life.
Maybe Zoe is right. Maybe this is just what I need. Tomorrow I’ll get up and get this novel moving once and for all. Yeah. Yeah, this is going to be good.
As I’m drifting off to sleep, I’m jarred awake by the sudden, way too loud sound of what is probably an owl. I hope. Are there owls in winter? I vaguely remember learning that owls are predators. Do they attack humans? No, that doesn’t make any sense. My exhausted brain is throwing out addled thoughts. And they don’t break into houses, either, right? No. No, they definitely wouldn’t be able to peck through the walls. Unless—and this is my last thought before I fall into a deep, deep sleep—unless the bears let them in.
CHAPTER 8
OWEN
Sixteen times.I circled the block sixteen times before finally finding a parking space. And even then, there was some sign about alternate side of the street parking and seven a.m. On alternate Thursdays or something like that. I’m not even sure. I’m so damn tired after the drive and theparking ordealall I can do is cross my fingers the truck won’t have a ticket in the morning. Or a boot. Or be on its way to an impound lot. However they do these things here in good ol’ NYC.
Man, it reminds me of exactly why I moved away from Boston as soon as I could (other than avoiding my dad’s repeated efforts to ship me off to law school and draft me into the family firm, of course.)
Thank God I’m at least here now. I’m late, too. Zoe planned to meet meto let me in and give me the key, but when I check my phone, I discover a text from her.
Zoe
“Sorry, babe. I need my beauty sleep. Left the key with the neighbor.”
I sigh. Just as well, I doubt I’d be great company right now.
I find George’s building, which has a buzz-in system Zoe failed to mention. I’m puzzling over the button panel, trying to guesswhichneighbor is expecting me, when a man and a woman exit together and, mercifully, let me in.
Going out at eleven p.m. That, I suppose, is the city that never sleeps for you. Sleep, however, is just about all I can think about.
I make it upstairs okay, but freeze when I realize George has three neighbors on this floor. Goddamn Zoe.
I start cackling to myself, right there in the hallway.
A door pops open, and a man in his seventies in a sweater vest leansout. “Oh, there you are! You must be George’s friend.”
“Uh, yeah, right. I’m Owen.” I offer my hand.
“Aren’t you sweet? I’m Marty. Glad to see you got here in one piece. Quite a schlep, coming all the way from Vermont. Here, let me show you how to unlock the door.”
I’m about to protest that I do know how keys work when Marty pulls out a ring with three different keys on it and goes through an elaborate sequence of turning one left and then another three-quarters to the right and so on, explaining as he goes, until the door opens.
“There you go.” He drops the keys into my open hand as I gape at him. “Night now.”
He disappears into his apartment just as I manage to call after him, “Thank you! Nice to meet you!”
Inside, I flick on the lights, then turn to see that the lock system looks even more elaborate from the inside. After a moment of trying to figure it out, I draw the chain lock and leave it at that.
I pull out my phone and text Zoe.
I’m here. Got in okay.
She answers a moment later.
Yay!!!
I smile to myself, then drop my bags and lean against the door.
Night, night.
