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Sighing, I type out a text to the building’s superintendent, Harold, again. It’s the third one I’ve sent in the two hours since I got home.
I tell him that my skin feels like it’s melting off and I need him to come to my apartment now.
I press send even though I doubt he’ll reply. He hasn’t responded to the first two texts or the voicemail I left him.
I’m not surprised. I heard a
loud thud come from the apartment across the hall from mine ten minutes ago. Maybe their air conditioner died too.
I take another long sip of cold water from the glass I’ve refilled twice before I set it back down on a small table next to the worn red wingback chair in the corner.
Hydration is my only ally right now.
My phone vibrates in my hand. My gaze drops, my heart leaping with the hope that it’s Harold.
“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath when I see the text is from Sophia.
Sophia: What are you doing right now?
It’s typical Sophia. She sends the same text whenever she wants to meet for a drink or dinner. Since I already ate a piece of pizza on the go on my way home, and I’m not in the mood for a martini, I cut to the chase to save us both time.
Dexie: I’m in my hot as hell apartment wearing almost nothing. I can’t hang out tonight. I need to work.
The dots on the screen start jumping while she types a response.
Sophia: Why is it hot as hell? You have an air conditioner. Turn it on before you pass out.
I laugh at her predictability. Sophia is the most caring person I’ve ever met. Since she became a mom, her need to nurture everyone around her has increased tenfold.
Dexie: Before you tell me to call the super, I have. The air conditioner isn’t working.
I smile knowing that she’s about to invite me to her apartment. She has a guest room that overlooks Central Park. I crashed there once when we had too much red wine on her birthday.
Her husband, Nicholas, made me feel like I was a member of the family. They’ve both always treated me with nothing but love and respect.
Sophia: Come stay here tonight. We can hang out. I’ll help you with your work. We’ll have some wine.
I laugh aloud, my fingers flying over the screen of my phone.
Dexie: You’re the best, but I’m staying here. I can deal with the heat.
I finish what’s left of the water in my glass while she types.
Sophia: The offer is open if you change your mind, but do me one favor.
I start toward my kitchen faucet to refill my glass, but I stop mid-step when I look out one of the windows and catch a glimpse of the building next door.
He’s back.
The man from last night is standing in front of his window, wearing a T-shirt and jeans.
My phone buzzes in my hand, so I drop my gaze to it just long enough to read Sophia’s next message.
Sophia: You said you’re wearing next to nothing so unless you have something covering your windows, you need something to cover you. Put on a robe or some clothes before your neighbors see you!
I smile to myself as I type out a response.
Dexie: Too late. I need to go.
