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I fling open the car door, annoyed with my inexperience when it comes to dating. Yes, she makes me feel like a teenager, but I'm an intelligent man, more than capable of figuring this out.
Tucking the coat under my arm, I press the buzzer for Janey's unit. In less than three seconds, the buzzer sounds, letting me into the building. All the muscles in my shoulders tense, and I take a few deep breaths as I climb the stairs, willing the tension to ease. How could she be so careless?
I've got my lecture ready. I'm not supposed to lecture, but in this case, I feel it is entirely appropriate. The door to her unit swings wide, and I open my mouth to explain to her how dangerous it is to let people into the building without verifying their identity, when a teenage girl pops into the hallway.
She's dressed like a character from a comic. The one with the pigtails and the two colored hair. She blows a bubble, the pink gum popping all over her red lips. I don't know where to look. Her face is all kid, but her body is not. It feels highly inappropriate to look. I end up staring at the tip of her nose.
"You're not Preston," she says, picking the gum off her lips.
"No. I am not."
"Huh." She turns and heads back into the apartment, slamming the door behind her.
My feet cemented to the floor, I mentally throw out my plan. Again. Why do I keep making plans? They almost never work out. I raise the jacket to my face and drop my nose into the collar, breathing deeply. Janey's sweet, fruity smell fills my senses.
I knock on the door politely when all I want to do is kick it in and find Janey. She doesn't have a sister. I'm pretty sure of that. Maybe she's taken on a roommate? Either way, I don't like not knowing.
The door swings open again. "What do ya want?" The woman-girl pops a hand on her hip and stares at me, noisily chewing her gum.
"I'm looking for Janey."
"I don't know a Janey."
"This is her apartment."
"Nope. It's ours. Sorry." She goes to shut the door, and I slide my size thirteen sneakered foot inside to block the door. She raises an eyebrow but seems otherwise unconcerned that a six foot three, two hundred and thirty-pound man is holding open her door. This kid is either stupid or has seen way too much already.
"This is Janey's place. It has been for years."
She sighs and leans on the door, completely over me and this whole conversation. "Mom and I moved in a few weeks ago. I don't know where your girlfriend went. But just sayin', if she didn't tell you where she went, she probably didn't want you to know." Then she taps the tip of my sneaker with one of her tiny combat boots, nudging me back. I let her move me as I stand there, baffled.
Where is Janey?
"Where's the super's apartment?" I ask her, putting my hand on the door to stop her from closing it.
Another sigh. "First floor. Big sign on the door that says, Manager. Bu-bye."
I stare blindly at the closed door. Teen girls are terrifying.
I find the super's apartment easily and bang on the door loud enough that a couple of doors down the hall open up. I don't bother looking. I don't care.
I bang again, impatient. Finally, the shuffling of footsteps comes to the door. A bleary-eyed, dark-haired man a decade older than me yanks the door open with a scowl. His scowl and the snarl on his lips fade quickly when he sees me.
"Ah...help you with something?"
"Janey. Apartment 3E. Where is she?"
He straightens in the doorway, shoulders rolling back, a sneer curling his lips. "Evicted her deadbeat ass."
My heart stops in my chest. "Excuse me. Evicted? When?"
He shrugs, like kicking a woman out of her home is no big deal. "Changed the locks about a month back."
"What does that mean? Be specific.” It’s a struggle to keep my words level. I would really like to grab him by the neck, but it’s not time. Not yet.
He sneers and puffs up his chest. He's got some muscle definition under his black t-shirt, but it's the kind that comes from lifting heavy weights in the gym, then eating a four-course meal in an Italian restaurant. Muscle mixed with round. But he thinks he's special. And right now, he thinks I'm not. My size intimidated him when he first opened the door, but now, he thinks he has the upper hand.
He's wrong.
