“Miss, if you don’t mind my saying so, these locks wouldn’t keep a third-rate bum out.”
My mouth falls open and he digs his phone out of his pocket, says a few words then holds it out to me.
“Here.”
“What?”
“For you.”
I am so confused. I take the phone.
“Good morning,” Sergio says before I can say a word. I can almost hear the grin on his face.
“Are you responsible for this?”
“Yes. I realize it’s early—”
“You can’t just send someone to my house to change my locks. I don’t even know you. It’s not even my house. What’s next, the windows?”
“Maybe. If you need it.”
“No. I’m joking!”
“The owners will appreciate the better locks, Natalie. I guarantee that. I can break into your house with one hand tied behind my back.”
“No one’s trying to break into my house.”
He doesn’t speak for a minute and I think back to the man last night, the one who almost plowed me down on his way out of the street.
No one has tried. Yet.
“I just want to keep you safe. Youngwomanliving alone and all. Want to make sure you’re protected.”
Woman. So he heard what I said.
“Nat?”
“I don’t like people calling me that,” I say.
“Natalie?” he amends. “Just do this for me and I’ll get rid of the pictures I took.”
“You will?”
“Yes.”
“How will I know you did it?”
“You’ll have to trust me.”
“I’m confused.”
“About trusting me?”
“About everything.”
“We can talk about it later if you want, when I take you to get photos of the warehouse.”
“I don’t need those anymore.”
