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“Either way, that’s probably a good enough reason for us to avoid each other,” she said.
He kicked a loose rock on the ground, before meeting her eyes again. “Sounds like a lost cause then.”
“Completely lost. So, you just move along wherever you were going so I can continue with my business.”
“Sam’s the apartment manager here, and he knows how to fix anything. And, trust me, there’sa lotthat needs fixing, so you want him around.” Zabe crossed her arms in a typical defense stance, ready to do battle on his behalf.
Sam scratched his eyebrow. “Okay, thanks, Zabe. I can take it from here.” He refocused on the woman. “I suppose you’re the Luna Lanza who’s here to look at apartment seven.”
“Yup.”
“Let me just grab the key.”
When Sam returned from his office, Zabe was bouncing on her heels, chatting happily with Luna. “And then Nicholas Papadakis, his family was from Greece, in number two, lives next to me and my dad. He has a Chihuahua named Luna too. Wouldn’t it be great to have two Lunas living here? But if you’re looking for a place that’s da bomb, it’sdefinitelynot here. It doesn’t have a pool or anything. Do you think you can talk Sam into putting in a pool? He’d probably listen to someone pretty like you.”
“All right, Zabe, I’m sure your dad wants you to be doing something productive like…I don’t know. Reading? Let me show this apartment in peace.”
The kid waved after exclaiming she couldn’t wait for Luna to be her new neighbor, before scampering away.
“Da bomb?” Luna asked as they climbed the staircase.
He cringed because he already felt less than cool without having to be shown up by an eight-year-old. “Not sure where she picked that up. No one talks like that anymore.”
“She also asked if I was going to make cookies like Ms. Carol. She was trying to convince me that this is an apartment building rule.”
A smile touched his lips. Ms. Carol’s oatmeal cookies had always been a welcome gift on his doorstep. He didn’t have much in his life to look forward to but sitting on the steps, inhaling ten cookies at a time, while chatting with the older woman, was one of those simple pleasures he missed. “Ms. Carol used to have apartment seven but she died.”
He realized his mistake when Luna paused on the stairs, her eyes large. “Excuse me?”
“I—N-no. Not like—” He couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate other than to release a series of stammers. His fingers interlaced on top of his ballcap-covered head.Goddammit.He should have let Zabe give the apartment tour. She may be a know-it-all Chatty Cathy but she at least knew better than to mention tenants dying. Yup, bumbling buffoon mode came right on schedule. He tried to save the situation and his dignity. “She didn’t dieinthe apartment. She was visiting family in San Francisco when it happened.”
Her moss-and-gold-colored eyes studied him for a few moments before continuing her climb to the second level. Sam was never so off-kilter in his life, gripping the metal stair railing tighter as he followed her. If he wasn’t careful, this was going to be the park situation all over again, and he couldn’t let that happen, not if they were going to be neighbors.
The Schnell Ridge apartment building was basic in its rectangular shape, and its landscaping was almost non-existent. Built during the 1990s, it claimed two levels, with twelve apartments total. All apartment entrances were on the outside with a balcony-type walkway on the second level.
Number seven was the one above his, and Sam had occupied apartment one since graduating from high school. After spending his youth, being obsessed withThe Fast and the Furioustype of street racing, along with his brother, he’d finally buckled down and decided on going to college. The plan was then for him to hand the keys over to Nate, who wanted to go into the family business of property management. Of course, the accident changed everything. With Nate’s death, Sam never finished his sports medicine degree and was still here at Schnell Ridge Apartments all these years later. When he and Luna reached the door to apartment seven, he slipped the key into the deadbolt. It took some jiggling for the bolt to unlock. “I…uh…think the door frame may have settled a bit and is a little tight is all.” He jammed his shoulder into the door to pop it and then caught it before the knob slammed into the wall.
“I can try and fix that for you,” Sam said, rubbing the shoulder that had acted as a battering ram moments before.
He let her enter first, making the conscious decision to keep the door open. At least the place was clean. The tan-colored carpet was freshly vacuumed and there was a light scent of Pine-Sol and fresh paint in the air.
Luna’s face, though, revealed a slight frown. “Well…it looks like an apartment.”
“Yup, exactly as advertised.” He shoved his hands in his pockets before following her into the small galley-style kitchen beside an equally small spot for a dining room table. There were a couple cracks at the edge of the beige checkered linoleum.
An apartmentwas the best way to describe the living conditions at Schnell Ridge because the place had all the personality of a basic cheese sandwich. His own place shared the same specifications as did the remaining ten apartments. Regardless, he wasn’t sure what she expected, nor did he understand the disappointment flashing across her face. It was clean, in relatively good working order, and had enough room to throw down a mattress. What else was needed?
“The appliances are included,” he mentioned when Luna inspected the fridge.
He fiddled with a kitchen drawer and the knob popped off in his hand.Dammit.He shrugged sheepishly as he tossed it onto the counter. “The screw must have been loose in the back, maybe it’s stripped. I can put in another one.”
Luna flicked on the kitchen faucet which started fine, but then the water hit the basin with enough force to send a spray of liquid in her direction. She squeaked in shock.
He rushed to shut the faucet off. “Sorry. I…uh, it’s just the aerator. Probably needs a new one or maybe it wasn’t screwed in all the way. I—Are you okay?”
Luna wiped a sheen of droplets from her neck and he couldn’t help noticing one single drop as it did a graceful glide from her neck to the dip at the center of her collarbone.
“I’m starting to wonder if this place is booby-trapped.”
