It's become our weekend routine. He does his morning sweep of the building, checks the security feeds. Around ten he appears on the terrace like clockwork. I started leaving the door unlocked for him after the first week.
“Coffee's on the counter,” I say without looking up.
He grunts what might be a thank you, disappears inside. A minute later he's back, mug in hand, settles into the chair across.
“What's today's project?” He nods at my sketchpad.
“Poster for Marie's dance troupe. Their spring show.” I turn the pad so he can see. “I'm trying to capture movement without it looking like clip art.”
Tank studies it with more attention than I expected. “The figure on the left. Her arm's too stiff.”
I look again. He's right.
“You have an eye for this.”
“My sister danced. Before.” He doesn't elaborate on before what. I've learned not to push. “She used to make me watch her rehearsals. I know what a body's supposed to look like mid-turn.”
I erase the arm, try again. Better.
“She'd like this,” Tank says quietly. “The colors. She always said dance needed more color.”
It's the most personal thing he's ever shared. I keep my eyes on the sketch, giving him space.
“I'll make sure there's plenty of color in the final version.”
He nods once. Drinks his coffee.
We sit in comfortable silence, the city humming below us. When Kai first told me about Tank, I imagined a shadow. Someone watching from a distance, invisible and impersonal. Instead I got a man who takes his coffee black, has opinions about dance poses, and always texts before he comes up so he doesn't startle me.
“You eat yet?” I ask.
“I'm fine.”
“That's not what I asked.” I set down my pencil. “I'm making a sandwich. You want one or not?”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “You don't have to feed me, Emma.”
“I know I don't have to. I want to.” I stand, heading for the kitchen. “Turkey or ham?”
“Ham,” he says after a pause. “Thank you.”
I'm pulling ingredients from the fridge when Kai hobbles in from the bedroom, hair still damp from the shower. He stops when he sees Tank at the terrace table through the glass.
“He's early today.”
“He's right on time. You're late.” I layer ham on bread, add lettuce, tomato, the spicy mustard Tank mentioned he likes. “You slept in.”
“Someone kept me up late watching terrible movies.”
“You picked the three-hour movie.”
“You agreed to it.”
I smile, finish Tank's sandwich and start on a second one for Kai. He leans against the counter, watching me with an expression I can't quite read.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing. Just...” He shakes his head. “You're making sandwiches for your security detail.”
