Page 5

Izzy turned back to Gabe, looked him up and down, made a little fake lunge, grabbed her bat, and left.

I turned slowly to my neighbor while her friend drove off. “Well, that was . . .”

She sucked air through her teeth. “I’m sorry. She gets aggressive when she’s scared.”

“Like a cornered raccoon or something?”

She bobbed her head. “More like a wolverine.”

“Hey, I’ma call you,” Gabe said from down below. “Go inside.”

I looked back at Charlotte. “Excuse me for a moment.”

“Sure. Actually I should probably try and get some work done,” she said. “It was nice to meet you.”

I nodded. “Yeah, you too.”

I went back into my apartment, and Gabe called me.

“I’m not gonna lie, the friend was low-key terrifying, and also I was sort of into it?” he said.

“Ha.”

“Why do you think there was a sock on the end of that bat?” he asked.

“I have no idea,” I said, rubbing my brow.

“Dude, you fucking scored,” he said. “You’ve got the lawsuit of the century and a hot chick to hang out with?”

I went to the window to look out at him getting into his car. “Okay, first of all, I’m not suing anyone, I wouldn’t do that to John. Second of all, we’re not hanging out.”

“Listen to me,” he said, going on unfazed. “Do not, and I cannot stress this enough, spend the whole time talking to her about trees.”

“I’m not going to talk to her about trees.”

“Okay. Because you do that when you’re nervous. It’s all jacarandas and dId YoU kNoW mOsT tReEs aRe mALe.”

“Okay, I get it? And also, I probably won’t even see her again.”

“What do you mean? You two are officially residents of the most exclusive penthouse in Burbank, of course you’re gonna see her again.”

My phone pinged with a text. John, outside with the bucket.

“Hey, I gotta go.”

“No trees.”

“Okay, okay.”

I went back out. John tossed me a rope and tied it to the handle of a white painter’s bucket. I hauled it up and set it by the door.

“Thanks,” I called.

“You got it. Seriously, let me know if there’s anything I can do while you’re up there.”

John’s girlfriend, Holly, came around the building in her scrubs. She was a hospice nurse. She worked a lot with a residential retirement home where I volunteered. I actually knew her before I knew John—it’s how I found the apartment.

She scrunched up her nose when she saw me. “Oh, man. Seth, we’re really sorry.”