7
Sitting duck
Lila wavedat her doorman as they crossed the tiled lobby towards the elevator.
“What’s his name?” Sawyer asked, gesturing back at the doorman.
“That one’s Josh,” Lila answered.
“How many are there?”
“I don’t know,” Lila admitted. “Three?” The elevator opened and they stepped in, Lila pushing the button for the sixth floor.
“I’ve always liked the idea of a doorman,” Sawyer observed.
“My mother insisted.” Lila waited for Sawyer to get off first when they arrived at her floor, and let him do reconnaissance, before leading him down a brightly lit hall to her door. Sawyer could hear a dog pawing on the other side as Lila fished out her keys.
“Don’t step in quickly.” She warned. “He’s wary of strangers.”
“Dogs love me,” Sawyer said, and the whining coming from under the door didn’t sound in the least menacing. Sawyer continued to scan the hall for trash chutes, fire escapes, or any other means a person could get into the building.
Lila finally opened the door and the whining turned into a ferocious growl and a bark. Sawyer jumped backward.
“Hans, down!” Lila shouted at a giant German shepherd. She grabbed his collar and dragged him snarling, away from the door.
“You keep that thing in an apartment?” Sawyer asked.
“My father insisted,” Lila said, her smile an attempt at menacing. She kissed the dog on the head and scratched his ears. “Come in. He’ll realize you’re invited.”
Sawyer stepped inside, as Lila released Hans’s collar. Hans clobbered Sawyer, by planting his paws directly on his chest.
“He just wants to sniff you,” Lila explained.
“I smell like meat,” Sawyer said. “He’ll want to eat me.” He pushed Hans down and stroked his back. “Good boy,” he said, pointing at himself. “Not food.”
“I told you,” Lila said. “I have a good security system.”
“Not good against a gun,” Sawyer replied, taking in the wall of windows that let the bright afternoon sun into the apartment. Sawyer had seen nice apartments before in his line of work, and this was definitely on the list of top ten. Well over several million to purchase, he knew. No way purchased on a resident’s salary. The issue for security of course, was the wall of windows.
“Do what you need to do,” Lila said. “I’m going to take a shower and change. Come on, Hans.”
“I’ll need to see your bedroom,” Sawyer said, enjoying her reddening cheeks at his statement.
“That’s fine,” she replied evenly. “I’ll be in the bathroom.” She disappeared into the bedroom, leaving the door open for him.
Sawyer surveyed the lines of sight from her windows to other rooftops, examined her alarm system. She was right, it was state of the art. He also nosed around her possessions, curious about the life of a senator’s daughter. She had woven baskets from Africa, stitched animal Mola art from Panama, and rosaries still packaged in little boxes from the Vatican. He wondered if she bought them in specialty shops here, or if she’d actually traveled to each of their countries of origins. The rug spanning wall to wall in her living room was a Turkish carpet, and another made of silk lined the hall. Hans came out of the bedroom and nosed his leg, sniffing all around Sawyer’s shoes.
Sawyer got his answer as he stepped into her second bedroom, and saw the large wall map over her desk, colorful pins pushed into almost every country in the world. A pang of envy shot through him. He’d had to join the army and risk his life to get to travel as much she did. There was a reason a girl like her never went for guys like him; they didn’t understand where he came from (at least that’s what Sawyer thought). He picked up a framed picture of her from a bookshelf. She smiled in a graduation cap next to her parents. No denying though - shewasbeautiful. Even beneath the mussed hair and glasses and baggy scrubs. If he ever got a girl like her – hard working, worldly, selfless with her Saturday’s, not afraid of blood – maybe he’d consider keeping her around for more than a few fun nights.
“What are you doing?” Lila stood in the doorway, toweling her hair. She wore faded jeans and a Boston College t-shirt. She’d put on mascara.
Sawyer set the picture back on the shelf. “What I said. Checking security.”
“My pictures?” She planted her hands on her hips.
“The windows,” Sawyer said. “You’re going to need to keep your curtains closed until this is over.” He grabbed a fabric panel and pulled it down over the glass. “These are a security nightmare.”
“I like the light,” she said. Her phone rang and she pulled it out of her back pocket. “Hello?”
