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“Dr. Fuckswell, I mean, Dr. Maxwell. What are you doing here?”
Oops that was a huge slip up, I mean I didn’t hate the nickname, and watching her cheeks turn redder than tomato made her even more sexy if that’s humanly possible. Snap out of it Leo she is your-- Neighbor? Patient? Doesn’t matter what you choose to define her as, she is completely off-limits.
“You can call me Leo outside of my office, it’s probably safer than Dr. Maxwell.” I said firmly.
She blushed even more knowing I was trying to avoid another Fuckswell slip up.
“And well I guess I am your new neighbor,” I said it as bluntly as I could, as if it wasn’t strange at all, even though, of course it was. We weren’t supposed to exist in each others’ lives outside of my office. It was strange enough to see a patient at the grocery store, but to have to live next to one? This would take some getting used to. And that was without the fact that I’d just heard her atomic orgasm.
“I’m a friend of Kiefer’s, and he sublet his apartment to me.”
The information took a moment or so to process in her head, after which there was a look of recognition.
“That’s right,” she said. “You two are friends. Or friends of friends.”
“We used to play poker together,” I said. “It was organized by a guy we both knew.”
She already looked bored. Or tired. It was hard to blame her, I wasn’t finding this conversation particularly exciting, either. I cut to the chase.
“Do you have a drill I can borrow?”
Again, the words seemed to flow right past her. It wasn’t because she was stupid, just that her mind was stuck back in her bedroom. I snapped my fingers in front of her face.
“Are you high or something?” I asked. I knew she wasn’t, but I wasn’t about to ask her if she always had a hard time focusing after coming her brains out. She just needed something to bring her back to the present to remind her she was in the middle of a conversation.
It worked. “No,” she snapped at me. “I’m not going to smoke when I’m trying to get pregnant. Are you crazy?”
Fair enough. I backed away, since I didn’t run away from Hannah just to get in a fight with another woman.
“I just want a drill. I’m trying to put my bed frame together so I can go to sleep. It’s been a long couple of days, and I’d really appreciate it.”
“So you need to drill someone,” she said. A Freudian slip if ever I heard one, but she didn’t catch it, and I wasn’t about to point it out to her and prolong the conversation any more than necessary.
“Yes. Do you have a power drill I can borrow?”
She paused a second and then nodded. “Just a minute.”
The door closed as she went back into her apartment, and I stood out in the hallway waiting for her. I guess I hadn’t expected her to invite me inside, but it felt strange to just be waiting out here in this building where nobody knew me. An old woman came up the steps carrying a small dog and gave me a mean stare. I smiled and waved at her, but she didn’t return either gesture of kindness. Instead, she unlocked her apartment and went inside, eying me suspiciously as she did so. As soon as the door shut, I heard multiple locks engage.
At that point, I tried to recall my patient’s name. Mary wasn’t right — it was something more unusual. Mia maybe? That felt close but not it. Miri? Maybe?
Whatever her name was, she came out of the apartment with a power drill.
“Thanks,” I said, reaching for it, but she pulled it back towards her.
“Nu uh,” she said. “I bought this puppy after loaning out the last one and never getting it back.”
“Sure,” I said.
“Just show me what needs to get screwed, and I’ll…” she paused and her face turned red. “I’ll handle the drilling,” she said, correcting herself and then turning even redder.
I ignored her entendre. “Yeah, come on over, I’ll show you what we need to do.”
Right before I opened the door, I remembered something. “You’re okay with…” I lowered my voice. “…dogs, right?”
She looked at me like I was crazy. “Of course.”
It was then that I saw some writing on her power drill: Property of Mila Saunders.
