God, I can just imagine what others would think if they got a hold of what I’ve written. I pull myself together and take a deep breath. Now taken the weekend away from work and stretched my leg in the pool, my limp isn’t as predominant today. The ache isn’t bothering me, and while I can’t run marathons, I can take the stairs and walk at a normal pace without feeling like I need a break.
I make my way back out the door with a piece of tape on the note, more than ready to start the day. I’ve got one more week of making the long commute to the bigger city. It usually wouldn’t be that bad, but it has been lately. The road work, the school zones, and the snowbirds are making for a lot of traffic.
If there’s one thing about the Barlow family, it’s our absolute loathing of being late to anything—work, an appointment, school, and definitely dinner. So, you can imagine my disdain for being late. And if I don’t get a move on, I definitely won’t be on time.
The good news is that my usual go-to outfit is effortless, making my life easy when it comes to getting ready in the morning. And it’ll only get easier once I’m working at Barlow Auto Repair. I’m required to wear a Barlow shirt, jeans, and sneakers. The colors for the shirts are as follows: black, heather gray, and navy blue. Those are your options, simple as that. The darker colors hide the grease stains, and the lighter ones are the ones the guys definitely use during the summer. Add the five-minute drive versus thirty, the shorter hours, and the better pay, and it makes everything even more relaxed.
I’ll be in the air conditioning unless I’m delivering parts to the bays or helping bring cars around for customers to pick up.Other than that, I’ll strictly be taking care of the inside, dealing with the catastrophe of what’s become of the office.
I lock the door behind me, move to my neighbor's door, stick the note to his door, and head down the stairs. I’ve barely reached the second set of steps when my phone blares to life.
“Jesus.” I stop in my tracks, hand on the railing since it scared the absolute shit out of me. My soul nearly left my body, and I’m lucky today is a good day for my leg. I dig through my purse, trying to figure out who could be calling me this early in the morning. It wouldn’t be my mom; I call her once I’m on my way to work and my phone is connected to the car audio.
“Hi, Matt,” I answer once I see it’s my boss on the other end of the line.
“Hey, Kara, did I catch you before you left?” Matt very rarely calls me, and when he does, it’s to see how an appointment went and when to put me back on the schedule.
“You didn’t. Well, I’m halfway to my car. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I wanted to give you an option before you drove in. Jeff and I were looking over the reports. You have forty hours built up in paid time off, and since your replacement started last week, we wanted you to know we’re offering to cash out your time accrued. We’d also still pay you for the remainder of this week.” Matt and Jeff have been amazing, and while this still kind of stings, it’s also really freaking nice.
“Oh, well, I mean, I’d be dumb not to take it, so I guess I’ll see you all around?” I have direct deposit. I never kept anything in my desk area that had a lot of meaning to me, not even a picture of my niece. I did that because of all of the surgeries, the in and out, and never expecting them to keep my job for me in case it took me too much time to come back.
“You’ll always have a job here if something doesn’t work out. I doubt that will happen, though. And you’ll see us one way or the other.” Even with their place of business being further awayfrom Whispering Oaks, they live closer to me, so we run into each other here and there.
“Thanks, Matt. Please thank Jeff for me, too.”
“You’re welcome, Kara. You know him, he’ll reach out to you before too long.” Truth be told, I tend to hear from Jeff more than Matt. They complete each other. Where Matt is more of an introvert, Jeff is absolutely the extrovert. He is definitely training the new hire, which is why he didn’t make the call himself. But I know Jeff; he made sure his husband called to save me time and money.
We end the call, I put my phone back in my purse, turn around, and take the stairs back up to my apartment. I guess with an unexpected day off, I’ll have to figure out what to do with my spare time. One thing I’ll be doing for sure is calling my mom. If I miss out on my normal weekday chat, she’ll worry, Dad will worry ten million times more, and then my brother will get in on the mix. That’ll lead to two Barlow men banging on my door, and with my luck, the hot guy next door will come out and see how crazy protective my family can be, which quite possibly will scare him away before things really even get started.
The note I left minutes ago is still safely taped where I left it, and I’m able to slide my key into the lock, open the door, and step inside, all without being caught by my neighbor. The only thing I’m left wondering is what he’ll think about the note.
7
Dean
Iopen my front door and find the note that was left sometime during the day today. I’m still stuck on what to do with Scout. The neighbor downstairs can’t do anything during the later part of the afternoon, and I’ve asked a few guys at work if they know anyone. No dice, which means I might have to take tomorrow off, drive to my mom’s place three hours from here, hope he takes to her okay, and drive back.
I’ve got Scout’s leash in one hand while the other is unfolding the note.
Dear Hot Guy Next Door,
The sounds coming through the wall were much better, low and impossible to ignore. The kind that pull you out of your sleep and leave you wide awake, imagining exactly what’s happening on the other side.
I didn’t fall back asleep.
And truthfully, I didn’t want to.
Xoxo,
Pretty Girl Next Door
Damn. Now I’m really going to have to get away from working nights. Either that, or I’m gonna need to get my ass home earlier to wake her up while I take my cock in my hand.
“Baroo,” Scout lets out a howl when he hears a door open. I fold the note back up and place it in my pocket for safekeeping.
“Oh, hi. I didn’t expect to see you out and about,” she says. She’s wearing another one of her two-piece bathing suits, with some type of getup wrapped around her waist, showing off her smooth skin again. I bite the inside of my cheek, more than ready to say the first thing that comes to my mind. It would be something more along the lines of a whole lot more action than words.
