“Hi Frank!” she said as she swung the door open. As she widened the opening, she saw a burly construction man flanking Frank’s right side. And farther to the right was a man she had not expected to see.
Martin Cable stood staring at her with intense curiosity, and slight amusement. She managed to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and change her expression from openness to more guarded modesty. Dammit, she thought, embarrassed by her casual outfit and her singing, which she was sure they’d heard. I didn’t expect to see him.
“,” Frank said. “ I hope we didn’t catch you in the middle of… a dance party?” guessed Frank.
saw Martin stifle a laugh. She scowled.
“I’m packing,” she said. “Cleaning, and packing.”
“And drinking?” Frank noted.
“Some things are done better in a mood of celebration than mourning, Frank.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s the truth. Martin, Ken, this is . , this is Ken. He’ll be supervising the demolition.”
was barely able to concentrate on the beefy construction man as she waited for Frank to introduce Martin. She shook Ken’s hand dutifully.
Frank continued. “And this is Martin Cable, the building’s new owner. I hope it’s alright if we come in and take some measurements, as I requested on Monday?”
The Michael Jackson song reached a crescendo, and felt awkward as the music blasted from her apartment.
“Nice music,” Martin said, the smirk still on his face as he extended his hand.
didn’t shake it. “We’ve met,” she said. “Hi Martin. Yes, of course you can come in.”
She wiped her hand across her brow, and then stepped back into her apartment to the blaring speakers. She dimmed the volume, cutting a rousing song by Prince that had just started to play so that it was half as loud.
Raising her glass to her lips, she took a sip to ease the sense of awkwardness that she felt.
Frank led the way through her apartment, the other two men falling into line behind him.
Martin was last.
She watched them walk past her couch, her piles of items to donate, and on to her messy kitchen.
Frank and Ken crossed into the kitchen area, and Martin was about to follow when he turned so that he was facing her.
“You don’t have to turn it down,” Martin said. “I liked it.”
“Prince fan?” asked.
“Celebration fan,” Martin said. “I think life’s too short to take things seriously. I think it’s cool that you’re celebrating your move.”
“I don’t really have a choice about it,” said. “Seems to be happening whether I like it or not. So I might as well like it.”
Martin laughed. “Isn’t that the truth. We get dealt a hand of cards. Doesn’t matter what you’re dealt, it just matters how you play ’em.”
wondered if he was talking about his condition. She wanted to ask him how Dr. Norden’s treatments were going, but she knew that would be out of bounds. I’m not even supposed to know he’s sick, she reminded himself.
“Yeah,” agreed vaguely. “It’s all about attitude, right?”
“I think so,” Martin said. “Packing?” he motioned to the piles on the floor.
nodded.
“Have you found a place yet?” Martin asked.
*****
Martin waited for her to answer.
She was beautiful, standing by her speakers with a glass of wine in hand. Her cutoffs exposed most of her legs, the pockets grazing the top of her thigh where her flesh curved out enticingly. Her tank top hugged her breasts, and her skin was glowing with the sultry humidity. He took in her curves as he contemplated her possible answers.
Hopefully, the beautiful woman would stay in the neighborhood.
He could imagine seeing her again, often.
Bumping into her at the local market, and on the street as they waited for a cab. He could offer to share his cab, and they’d sit in the back seat, a little bit closer than they needed to. The cab would take a corner, and she’d fall against him, and—
His fantasy was cut short by her answer.
“I have a job interview tomorrow,” she said. She held up crossed fingers. “I hope I get it. I can’t really get serious about looking for a place until I find out.”
“Why?” he asked.
“The job is in London,” she explained. “And it comes with an apartment. If I get the job, I can save myself a lot of searching.”
Martin felt his jaw drop.
He tried to arrange his features so that he didn’t reveal his shock, or disappointment. It was hard to do. He felt himself frowning.