Dottie stormed across the hall and pounded on the door to Konrad’s apartment. When no one answered, she bludgeoned it until she heard him call out, “I’m coming!” She thought she heard some snickers.
He threw open the door and stood in his bathrobe, blocking the entrance with his broad shoulders. He had the audacity to smile as if nothing had happened.
“What the hell is going on in there? Are you murdering some poor women?”
“No, I assure you, she’s quite all right.”
“It sounded like the Boston chainsaw massacre over here. I’d like to see for myself that she’s alive and well. Please let me in…if you have nothing to hide.”
“Leave her alone. She’s embarrassed enough.”
“Oh, you’d like me to take your word for it, wouldn’t you? I’m not going anywhere.”
Konrad grumbled and then called over his shoulder, “Roz, honey? Can you say something to Dottie so she knows you’re all right?”
“I’m fine, Dottie,” a high voice called from within the apartment.
“She could be bleeding to death and afraid you’d hurt her more if she said any—”
“Jesus, Dottie, will you quit worrying?”
The higher voice from the other side of the apartment called, “Be right there.”
Konrad didn’t step aside.
“Well? Can I come in, or what? It’s late. I don’t want to disturb the other residents by discussing this in the hall.”
“She’ll be out in a second, and there’s nothing much to discuss.”
“Nothing to discuss? Are you serious?”
Konrad crossed his arms as if daring her to walk past.
Momentarily Roz scurried out to meet them, wearing a sheet wrapped around her, toga style. Her hair fanned out in various directions, thanks to static electricity. “See? I’m perfectly fine.” A blush colored her cheeks.
“Other than the humiliation, that is,” Konrad said scornfully.
“Making sure there isn’t a domestic disturbance going on is more important than anyone’s feelings.”
Konrad leaned forward.
Roz held up one hand as if anticipating a defensive response. “You’re quite right, Dottie. My shouting must have alarmed you, but it had nothing to do with being mistreated. I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
“Well, see that it doesn’t happen again.”
Konrad frowned. “You never want me to satisfy my lover again?”
Roz gasped and her hands flew up to cover her mouth.
Dottie’s eyebrows shot up. “You call that satisfying your lover? It sounded like she was dying in there.”
“That’s why the French call itla petite morte.”
“It figures the French would have something to say about it.” Pulling Roz aside, Dottie whispered to her, “I warned you about him, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did. And I’m glad I didn’t listen.”
***
