“What the hell?” I twisted it again.
It refused to budge. I jiggled the key again, harder. I pushed and then pulled at the door, with zero results. I cursed again, in earnest this time as I struggled to turn the damn thing.
“Is everything okay?” Jesse’s voice carried from downstairs in a loud whisper, so we wouldn’t wake the neighbors.
“No, it’s not,” I grunted. “My stupid door is stuck. It won’t open.”
There was a swish of fabric, and moments later, Jesse appeared on the landing.
“Is there anything I can do, pookey bear?” Candi stood like a kangaroo, her hands curled in front of her chest as though she was waiting for her nail polish to dry. She looked anything but helpful.
I shook my head. “No, it’s okay.”
Jesse looked amused. “Here, let me have a look.” She took the key out of my hand.
I stepped aside. She eased the key into the lock, trying to turn it. It wouldn’t go around more than a fraction of an inch.
“Do you have a flashlight?” she asked.
“On my phone.” I swiped the screen and turned on the flashlight.
She knelt in front of the door and pointed the light beam into the lock. “First thing, we check for dirt or some other obstruction. I can’t see anything though, it looks pretty clean. Maybe you should call Mr. Gore.”
As she got to her feet, she lost her balance because of her heels. I caught her by the elbow. Her skin was warm under my touch, and impossibly soft. My palm itched to explore more of it—all of it. This was the first time we had touched. I told myself this explained the strange electric shiver that ran through me.
“Who’s Mr. Gore?” Candi asked.
I cleared my throat. “He’s the superintendent.”
I hesitated, checking my watch. The thought of summoning Adrian Gore from his subterranean kingdom was unsettling.
“I hate to disturb him at this hour, and on a Saturday,” I said.
“I can try to fix it.” Jesse lifted one shoulder. “But I’m not making any promises. I don’t have locksmith training. Hold on while I get my toolbox.”
“Your toolbox?” Candi’s tone was somewhere between horrified and fascinated. “Are you, like, a repairman, Jenni?”
“Something of the sort.” Grinning, Jesse made her way back downstairs.
I stood there, still mildly stunned. I knew Jesse had taken over her father’s hardware store, but I hadn’t realized she’d inherited his skill, too. The woman intrigued the hell out of me.
Candi covered a yawn. “What if she can’t fix the door?”
I glanced at her. Her face looked tired in the hallway light, all sleepy eyes and smudged lipstick. Something in me softened—out of habit, mostly.
I reached out and pulled her in for a quick kiss. “If she can’t fix it, we’ll call Mr. Gore. But this could take a while. Why don’t you grab a cab and go home?”
She pouted adorably, staring up at me. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” I pulled out my phone and ordered the taxi before she could argue. Then I slid a hand down her ass, not ready to be entirely chaste. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, babe.”
She leaned in, rubbing herself against me. “If you can’t fix the door, you’ll come and live with me.”
I smiled, knowing full well she didn’t mean it. I wasn’t a fool. I knew Candi’s ambitions went beyond a mediocre geek like me. I’d been to her condo, I knew how she lived. And I knew she didn’t pay for that lifestyle on her own. I was providing entertainment that her sugar daddy didn’t. I was okay with it. He must have been okay with it, too. He couldn’t possibly think a woman like Candi spent months on end all alone, waiting for him to come visit. I figured as long as we played safe, everyone got what they wanted.
I wasn’t looking for soulmates anyway. My only real focus was my work. During the day, I was running satellite data through climate modeling software, debugging lines of code that might help save some corner of the world from drought. At night, I let women like Candi distract me from the silence that crept in when the code went quiet.
“I’ll fix the door,” I promised lightly, then patted her ass. “Message me when you get home.”
