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“I was thinking this morning about Rafferty’s dad's place. It is most likely better than this one.”
“It’s not. The apartments above the place are uninhabitable, so the offices cannot be that much better. Howard Brooks was not one for keeping up with repairs. And improvements have been nonexistent.” She started doodling again. Not that she had ever been in the building—she’d bought it sight unseen and still hadn’t been inside the thing. The condition didn’t matter; she wanted it. She had plans.
“Is that the neighborhood gossip?” He gave her a half-smile.
She bit her lip to stop herself from grinning. “Yes, that’s what we talk about at the block parties.”
“Or at book club? Since most of you live on this block.” He leaned back in his chair.
“I will bring it up next time.” She started to doodle again on the paper.
“So, back to the letter. Anything else you can think of? Did you have anything to add?”
“No.”
“You are the one affected the most; you sit out there. It is the coldest spot in the building.” He peered at her legs again.
“I’m fine with it. I know that this much cold will seep in. I have been living with it for a long time now, and I will live with it for longer.” Looking down at her paper, she noticed that she had spent the last few minutes just writing his name over and over again. She started to black out the name and hoped he didn’t notice.
“Do you even think that the owner looks at the letter?” He leaned back in his chair again.
“Yes, I’m sure that they take all complaints seriously. Maybe there is nothing that can really be done, and they feel bad about you being cold for a few days.” She crossed out the last one.
It was true; she hated for him to be uncomfortable. Over the years, she had gotten used to it, but he hadn’t. She made sure that other things were fixed immediately in all her buildings, but them being cold was unfixable.
“Yeah, right. They are not even looking at the letters. Maybe I should call. I hate people like that, those who only care about the money and not the people who live and work in the buildings.” Anderson was getting himself worked up about the situation.
“I don’t think it will do any good to call. Let’s just let it go. No use getting upset about it.” She got up and left his office, throwing the entire notebook in the garbage on her way by it. She was tired of the entire situation. She knew he didn’t know he was talking about her, but it hurt anyway. Was she really that callus about her properties?
“Ruth, come back,” he called after her.
“No, we are done with that, Anderson.” Ruth waved off his words but didn’t go into his office. Sitting at her desk, she started to fiddle with the papers there, ignoring his glares.
Anderson followed her into the office and leaned against the wall. “What is wrong, Ruth?”
“I don’t understand why you can’t understand that it is over ninety degrees of temperature difference inside to outside. No building built over a hundred years ago can handle that. It’s just how it is. I am not sending a letter that just might make the owner upset. In a few days, it will be back to normal,” Ruth stated, pointing at the notepad into the garbage by her desk.
“You are just accepting it?” Anderson crossed his arms as he stared at her in confusion.
“Yes, just let it go. As you said, I am the one who is affected the most by the problem, so I will deal with it.” Ruth leaned back in her chair and looked at him. He was still propped against the wall, just looking at her.
For a moment, they just stared at each other as if the first to break contact would not get their way on it. His dark brown eyes were staring at her. They were not the happy, laughing eyes that she liked; she liked them better that way.
“Why did you leave the bar on Friday?” His words took her by surprise. Where had that come from?
“No reason.” Ruth didn’t look away from him.
“You almost passed out in the bar.” He did not look away from her.
She refused to look away first. “I can’t drink a lot of alcohol. I know that.”
“Isn’t that what Rafferty said to you?” His eyes squinted.
“Maybe I don’t listen to him.” It was exactly what he had said.
He was still locked on. “Why do you hate him so much?”
Unable to look away or she would lose this battle, she said, “That is between Rafferty and me.”
