AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The apartment is more low-key than the ones surrounding it. It blends in, just as tall as the others, mostly. The bricks are old and pale, more of what one would expect so close to the harbor. The windows don’t glitter, however. They’re duller with more of a matte finish.
Quit stalling and go.
I enter the deserted lobby, jarred by the sudden silence as the door closes behind me. As I approach the elevator, I pass a wall of mailboxes along the way and my sneakers whisper along the stained carpet.
Retrieving my phone from my back pocket, I skim my instructions again.
3PM. Apt. 13A. Bring your resume.
I board the elevator, tap 13, and hold my breath. It’s a long ride up, the lift struggling somewhat along the way as it takes its time. Though one glance at my reflection shows that to be a fortuitous thing.
I set down my duffel bag, reaching in to find my hairbrush inside. The stench of bleach still lingers in my nostrils as I pull the bristles through my freshly trimmed locks. I let them fall where they may, briskly moving on to touch up my lips and eyes.
The elevator comes to a quivering stop; the doors opening in a short entryway with only one door.
13A.
With my resume now in hand, I secure my duffel over one shoulder and creep toward the door. The hall is dark, windowless. Not particularly inviting, but it’s not like I have anywhere else to go.
Point of no return.
What are you gonna do?
I knock.
Almost immediately, there’s movement on the other side, light but purposeful steps in my direction. There’s surely no turning back now, so I stand tall and wait.
A man opens the door. He’s young with rough edges; not quite thirty-five, but far from twenty. With sky-blue eyes and trimmed black hair. His shoulders are broad, but his waist is tight, creating a stunning V-shaped body that’s sadly obscured by a buttoned up white shirt and black slacks. Rolled-up sleeves and shiny shoes.
“Hello,” I say. “I’m?—”
“Ms. Green?”
I nod. “Yes. But Skylar is fine.”
He eyes me for a moment before saying, “I’m Adrian Price.” Opening the door farther, he gestures me inside. “Come in.”
My curiosity piqued, I walk in and pause in the entryway; a mudroom with a coat rack along the wall and plenty of space for shoes beneath a bench, though there isn’t a pair in sight. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” I say. “I know you’re probably a busy man…”
He closes the door. “Your resume?” he asks.
I give it to him, cringing internally at the fresh crease down the center.
Adrian doesn’t seem to notice. Or he doesn’t care. He skims it quickly, his expression blank, his bright eyes hooded beneath long, dark lashes.
“No references, I know, but…” I swallow, my throat going dry. “I can contact some former co-workers if need, or I can provide a demonstration?—”
“That won’t be necessary,” he says, flipping it over to read the back. “You’re a trauma nurse?”
“Yes,” I answer. “For almost two years. In Kansas City.”
“You’re far from home.”
“A little, yeah.”
He peeks at me again. “Impressive work history for someone so young.”
“I was homeschooled,” I explain. “Graduated from high school at sixteen, so… you’d be surprised what two extra years can do for a resume.”
