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“No, seriously, please.”

“I’m an arborist,” I said. “I spend my days hanging out in trees. I’m very good with heights.”

“Well, I’m not? And you’re making me nervous. Also, you have an injury? What if you trip.”

I peered down at my ankle. I was off the crutches now, but I was still wearing the boot. “Okay, good point,” I said. “I guess I am a bit of a fall risk.”

She looked relieved when I stepped back.

“How did you get that?” she asked.

“Dead branch coming down. I had to jump out of the way.”

“Is it broken?” she asked.

“No, just a bad sprain.”

She nodded, looking around uncomfortably.

I let out a breath and checked my watch. “I was gonna get a coffee,” I mumbled. “I guess that’s not happening anytime soon.”

“You don’t have any in your apartment?”

“Unfortunately not. I’m sorry, what was your name?” I asked.

“I’m Charlotte.”

“Nice to meet you.”

John came jogging up to the building.

When he got to where the stairs used to be, he stopped and looked around, perplexed.

“Told you,” I called.

“Son of a . . . ,” he muttered. He took out his cell and called someone. “Yeah, Guerrmo? Uh, your guys took down the wrong stairs. I said apartment sixty, not sixteen. I’ve got tenants that can’t get out. When are they coming back?” A pause. “Monday? No. It’s Friday, that’s the whole weekend. I don’t care. I don’t care, put up something temporary.” Another pause. “Let me call you back.”

He hung up and squeezed his eyes shut before turning back to us. “I think we’re going to need to put you two up in a hotel. They can’t get back here until next week, the concrete guys are already gone for the weekend, the railings aren’t getting delivered until Monday morning. The earliest I can get you stairs is Monday by five o’clock.”

“Uh, I don’t want to be in a hotel,” Charlotte said.

“I don’t really want to be in a hotel either,” I said.

“The landlord would pay for it—” John called.

“That’s not really the point? My stuff is here. I have a fish,” I said.

Charlotte was nodding.

“Well, I can’t leave you two in an inaccessible building. It’s a fire hazard,” he said. He looked around before coming back to us. “I could get a boom lift. Just so you can get up and down in an emergency.”

“What’s a boom lift?” she asked me.

“It’s that bucket thing electricians use?” I said.

She shook her head. “I’m not getting into a boom lift. Or using a ladder. I don’t like heights, there’s no way.”

“I mean, I’m okay just hunkering down,” I called. “I’d rather not be displaced.”