Callie
* * *
Foster demanded that he come pick me up rather than meeting at the doctor’s office, so when there’s a knock on the door, I grab my purse. I swing the door open, and there he stands in the hallway of my apartment, but his head is turned, staring to his right.
“Hey.” I peek my head out the door to see what’s caught his interest.
Jerry is staring back at Foster as he inserts a key into the lock of my neighbor’s door.
Jerry is probably a little intimidated that Foster Davis is at my doorstep.
Foster turns to face me, and his blue eyes leave me speechless as they often do. “The door downstairs wasn’t locked.” He steps inside my apartment, leaving me no choice but to back up and allow him to invade my personal space.
“Come in, I guess…” I’m not sure why we’re both not on the other side of the door.
“Callie!” Jerry calls, pulling me away from thinking that I should’ve cleaned up my apartment this morning.
I turn toward the open door to find Jerry standing in my doorway.
Here we go. He’s probably going to fawn over Foster and ask me about tickets again. Not anything I’m in the mood for right now.
“Are you headed out?” Jerry glances over my shoulder.
“Yeah. Just for an hour or two.”
Jerry glances at Foster again, whose chest is now pressed to my back, staring down Jerry over my shoulder. What the hell is his bodyguard behavior about?
“Oh good. I can look at that bathroom fan issue while you’re out.”
“Oh, Jerry, that’s not me. I think you’re confusing me with someone else in the building again.”
He pulls out his phone and scrolls on the screen for a moment. Then he glances back at Foster, who I’m pretty sure is going to knock me down because he’s even closer to me now. He’s acting like a guard dog ready to attack.
“Oh, I thought for sure it was you.”
“You’re the landlord?” Foster’s voice is gruff with a bite to it.
What am I missing here?
“That’s me, Jerry. Foster Davis, right?” Jerry steps into the apartment, his hand extended. Foster winds around me, putting me behind him, but at least finds some manners and shakes his hand. “I’m a big fan of yours.”
“Thanks.” Foster doesn’t sound any more friendly than earlier.
Jerry’s lips thin, and his body stiffens. I glance to where their hands are joined, noticing that Jerry’s knuckles are white.
I push Foster’s side. “Anyway, we need to get going. Hope you figure out which person needs their bathroom fan fixed.”
Foster steps toward the door, giving Jerry no choice but to blindly back up into the hallway. Finally, we’re all outside the apartment, and I lock my door, then say goodbye to Jerry.
“It was great meeting you, Foster, or do I call you Reaper?”
Oh, Jerry, quit while you’re ahead.
“Foster’s fine,” he grumbles.
Foster waits at the top of the stairs for me to go down first, and he places his hand on the small of my back as if we’re a couple. “I got us a car.”
He takes one more glance over his shoulder before we exit the building. He stops and turns around. Jerry is at the top of the stairs, watching us.
