Just Like a Hero

by Patricia Pellicane

  He took her free hand in his as they hurried from his apartment.

  “What are you doing?” she almost yelled at the firefighter presently attacking her door.

  He and two of his mates turned to look at her. She may not have known what they were doing, but there couldn’t have been a doubt in anyone’s mind what she’d been about. She’d missed two buttons, while the rest, buttoned crookedly, left a gaping space and a good portion of one breast partially exposed. She knew her hair was mused and felt her lips swollen. She wore only one shoe. “Someone’s inside. Stay out of the way.”

  “No one is in there. This is my apartment.”

  “Lady, we got a call saying a woman went to look at something burning.”

  “Oh my God, that was me.”

  “What? You reported a false alarm?”

  “No, no, no,” she said with a quick shake of her head. “That wasn’t me. I told my neighbor something was boiling over and,” her face grew hot as she realized what she’d done, “I-I-,” she stuttered, “I forgot to get back to her.”

  “We’ll need to make sure everything is all right.”

  Another firefighter grinned and said, “Sorry about the door.”

  They checked the stove and were gone within five minutes, leaving her with a destroyed door. There was no way she could stay there with her door only half in evidence, hanging uselessly, on only one hinge, halfway to the floor. The floor was littered with pieces of chopped and splintered wood. She put on her shoe and took a broom from her closet.

  “Are you all right, dear? I was so worried. Oh my, look what they did to your door. How awful,” Mrs. Morgan said taking in the destruction. “They were pounding on the door. Why didn’t you answer them?”

  Lexie managed to keep her groan to herself.

  Jim was also looking at her door. “I think Home Depot is open ‘til 10. I’ll get something. You’re going to need solid wood. Maybe the landlord will cover the cost.”

  Lexie knew he wouldn’t. In any case, the entire matter was her fault. She shouldn’t have tried to take Mrs. Morgan’s attention from the hallway. The wages of sin her mother would have warned. What she should have done was tell Mrs. Morgan she had another call and would get back to her later. It would have given her enough time to scurry down the hallway. Instead, Lexie had led her to believe something was boiling over, perhaps out of her control. It was her own fault. “Thank you. Let me give you my credit card.”

  “I’ll take care of it. Mrs. Morgan, can you stay with Lexie while I’m gone?” he asked the wide-eyed lady who couldn’t seem to bring her gaze from Lexie’s blouse. Jim noticed her stare and muttered a barely heard curse as he moved to stand in front of Lexie, blocking the lady’s view. “Fix your blouse.”

  She looked down and gasped. “Oh my God, was it like that the whole time?”

  “I’m afraid it was. I was wondering why those guys couldn’t stop grinning. I’m sorry.”

  Lexie groaned as she buttoned her blouse correctly. “It’s not your fault.” She managed a sick smile at his concerned expression. “Mrs. Morgan, would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “I won’t be long,” he promised as he left to pick up another door.

  Lexie managed to regain her usual control as she went about the business of making a pot of coffee. She ground the dark beans into a powdery mix. As she worked, Mrs. Morgan chattered happily behind her. Lexie didn’t hear much of it, until the old lady said, “He is hot, isn’t he?”

  She turned to see her eighty-plus-year-old neighbor sitting at her kitchen table, fussing with a paper napkin. “Who?”

  “Why Mr. Marino, of course, and quite a catch, if I say so myself.” The lady shrugged. “He is a lawyer, after all. Must be a pretty good one. He’s been working at the DA’s office for a spell.”

  Lexie nodded. “Maybe.”

  “The thing is even mediocre lawyers make a good living. I think you should grab this one.”

  Lexie watched the lady across from her. She was greatly tempted to tell her grabbing the man was exactly what she’d been about when she’d been interrupted by the firemen. She thought better of it. Instead, she admitted, “He is good looking.” She added, “If you like the type.”

  Mrs. Morgan allowed a low, wicked snicker. “I might be old dear, but I’m not dead. Everyone likes that type.”

  She laughed at Lexie’s soft blush. “So you were at his place when the firemen came?”

  There was no sense denying the truth. It was easy enough to see where she’d been, what with Jim holding her hand and keeping his arm around her waist throughout the entire episode. “I was. For a few minutes. I needed to borrow some sugar.”

  Again the old lady smiled, this time with a bit more confidence. “But you got something else instead. Something equally as sweet?”

  Lexie only blinked in response. If this woman thought Lexie would discuss her love life, she was sadly mistaken.

  “Don’t take offense, dear. I know I’m a busybody old lady, but I love a good romance. You’ve seen my bookshelves. Why I must have two hundred romances, plus double that in storage.”

  “I saw the police leaving when I got home today. Do you know why they were here?” Lexie asked, hoping to change the subject.

  “I called them. It was that little weasel Kerrington again,” she said, speaking of the new landlord. “Each of us got a letter telling us they’re changing this place into a co-op. I asked the police if there was anything I could do to stop him.”

  “What did they say?”

  “They said it was a civil matter, and I needed to find a lawyer. They were very nice.

  “You know Mr. Kerrington was such a good man. He never had a bad thing to say about anyone. How do you suppose his nephew turned out like this?

  “He wants all the old folks out,” Mrs. Morgan mused.

  Lexie nodded.

  “We got letters. Now, we each have to buy our places. None of us can afford to do that, so it looks like we’re off to court again. He’s been trying to get us out since he inherited the place. Too bad, his uncle died so young. He was a nice man.” She sighed deeply. “I’ve lived here for more than sixty years, since I was a young girl, just married. We moved in, Harry and I, with his family and I’ve been here since. We raised our children here. Now, that mean-spirited little brat is trying to aggravate me into an early grave.” She smiled at the thought. “Well, perhaps not early, but a grave nonetheless. Only I’m not ready to go yet, and I’m definitely not leaving my home.”

  * * * *

  The two women enjoyed coffee and chocolate chip cookies, while trying to think of a plan to save Mrs. Morgan’s apartment. Once Jim got back, the new door was up within an hour.

  “Good job,” Lexie remarked. “How is it you know how to hang a door?”

  He smiled at her but shook his head at the imperfect fit. “Good job for a lawyer, you mean. It’s not a good job. It needs some work here and here,” he said, pointing to two areas that fit a bit too snugly against the jamb. “I haven’t got the tools. I’ll borrow them tomorrow after work and fix it.”

  “How do you know how to do this?”

  “My father and his brother own a small building company. I worked there, until I went to school. Then I worked for them again during school breaks.

  “You got any coffee and cookies left?” he asked.

  The three of them sat at Lexie’s kitchen table for the next hour, while Mrs. Morgan talked about the landlord and his insistence that the elderly folks in this building had to leave or buy their apartments.

  Jim said, “If he means to convert this place into co-ops, why didn’t Lexie and I get notices? Besides, I don’t think he can do that, while you’re still living here.” He turned to Lexie. “Did you get anything?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “It could be he’s just trying to scare you out. Rent control is not pro-landlord.” He squinted as he tried to remember. “I think the general rules are, if this place was built befo
re 1947 and you or your family have continued residence since then, they can’t deregulate.” He shook his head. “I’ll talk to someone to make sure. We’ll see what we can do to stop him from bothering you.”

  He finished his coffee and brought his cup and plate to the sink.

  “Leave it,” Lexie said. “I’ll put them in the dishwasher later.”

  “It’s late,” Mrs. Morgan said as she glanced at her watch and seemed to remember something. “Oh dear, my favorite show is starting. I’ve got to go.”

  Seconds later, she was out the door. Jim grinned as Lexie turned from the door and smiled. “I thought her favorite show was watching you.”

  She leaned back and remarked, “She told me she thinks you’re hot.”

  “Did she?” he asked as he moved toward her. His arms circled her waist, and he pulled her willing form against him. “What do you think?”

  “I told her you’re okay, if you like that type.”

  He grinned.

  “She said, even if you’re a mediocre lawyer, you’re still a good catch.” Lexie bit her lips together trying to hold back her laughter.

  He chuckled, low and smooth. “What type am I?”

  She dropped her face to his chest and made choking sounds as she finally managed to harness the worst of her laughter. “I promise you it wasn’t half this funny when she said it.”

  “What’s making it funny now?”

  “I don’t know. Probably the thought of an old woman thinking you’re hot. She told me, ‘I’m old, dear, but I’m not dead’.” He burrowed his face into her hair. “I like the way your hair smells. Why don’t we forget about her and take advantage of finally being alone?”

  “Are we still having dinner tomorrow?”

  “Yes.

  “Would you mind if we finish what we started at your place, after dinner tomorrow?”

  “What’s the matter with right now?”

  “Right now, Mrs. Morgan’s on the phone telling the other tenants about my blouse and the fact that we’re alone again and, ‘What do you think they’re doing?’” Lexie shook her head, and her smiled grew decidedly sick. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

  He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry. Tomorrow night is fine.”

  Chapter Three

  “It was delicious, thank you,” Lexie said as a waiter took their plates away and another poured their coffee. “Good thinking to try this place.” She swirled the wine in her glass and watched the reds glow a beautiful ruby color against the candlelight before she took a deep breath. “And I’m absolutely not going back to your place after we finish here.”

  Jim grinned. “Coward. What could they do?”

  “It’s not what they can do; it’s what they can talk about, the questions they’ll ask. I guarantee, tomorrow, Mr. Burton will ask you if I was any good. Of course, if Mrs. Dietz is to be believed, they’ll realize a call girl would certainly be good. It’s what she does for a living, after all.”

  He grinned. “He wouldn’t.”

  “He would,” she insisted as she put down her glass and sipped her coffee.

  “Why did you have to come to my door?” She almost whined the question as she looked toward the heavens. “Why couldn’t we have met outside, say on the corner? Why did you knock? I know all six of them heard that knock.”

  “You’re getting paranoid.”

  She ignored his response. “Especially Mrs. Morgan.” Lexie received only a wolfish grin for her efforts. “Fine, don’t believe me. Just for that, I will go back to your place. Let’s see you talk or smile your way out of it tonight. How many times do you think they’ll knock or call before we…get down to business?”

  “I’ll ignore them. Do you know how pretty you are when your eyes flash like that?”

  “You mean my crooked, gray eyes?”

  He laughed as she fluttered dark lashes.

  “I mean your beautiful, blue eyes.”

  “Compliments won’t save you,” she said in a singsong voice, her gaze moving from him to her near empty glass of wine. “You’ll see.”

  “We’ll work out something.”

  * * * *

  When they entered the apartment building, it was quiet. Too quiet. It was early, yet no televisions or radios played.

  Lexie whispered, “They’re waiting for us.”

  “Fine,” he returned. “Let’s give them something to talk about.”

  She pulled at his arm, gaining his complete attention. “I’m serious. You don’t understand. They don’t need anything. What they can’t see or hear, they make up.” She gave a soft moan. “This is worse than living at home.”

  She should move, only she wouldn’t. Her apartment was perfect, close to work—in fact, close to everything. She walked everywhere, rarely even needed the subway. Anything she wanted was just a few steps away. She owned no car, therefore, no parking fees, payments, insurance or gas. She was saving a fortune. There was no way these old folks would drive her out.

  His lips trembled as he obviously fought back the need to laugh. “What do you do when a man stays after a date?”

  “He doesn’t,” she said morosely.

  Jim laughed, and she quickly covered his mouth with her hand.

  “If I met someone like that, we’d go to his place, but you live here.” she sighed in something close to despair.

  “Goodnight, Lexie,” Jim said, breaking the heavy silence in the hallway.

  “‘Night,” she repeated then watched his hand make quick circling movements. She glanced at his expression and realized he wanted her to continue talking. He nodded as bit louder she said, “Dinner was delicious, thank you. I’m going straight to bed. I have a little headache. I hope no one calls tonight,” she added louder still, “because I’m not answering my phone.”

  She unlocked, opened then quickly closed and relocked her door. In his anxiousness, Jim half-carried, half-dragged her the few steps that separated their doors.

  Inside his apartment, she giggled at the absurdity of their actions. In silence, she was quickly pushed against his closed door. She moaned as his hard length pressed against her, his mouth hot and hungry on hers. Breathless, they broke apart, only to fill their lungs and kiss again.

  “Good,” she murmured as he unbuckled her belt and dropped it to the floor.

  Her silk blouse was open. It momentarily surprised her to find it discarded near her feet. Her mind had been otherwise occupied, and she hadn’t realized he’d taken it off. Seconds later, her slacks joined her blouse, and she stood in a black bra and lace bikini panties.

  “Are you in a hurry?” she asked.

  “I’ve been waiting since last night. Personally, I’d say I’m showing remarkable restraint.”

  Her laughter was cut off by the pressure of his mouth. He moaned as she reached between them and caressed his erection. “I’d say you’re showing something remarkable all right. Only, I don’t think I’d call it restraint.”

  “That’s because you don’t know how much I want you.” He reached up, just over her head and flattened his hands against the door. He pushed against the surface, causing his body to move back a meager inch or two and allowing her the needed space to unbuckle his belt, open his trousers and reach into his shorts. “Mmm,” he moaned, his eyes closing with pleasure. “I was useless at work today. All I could think about was this.” Helplessly, his hips surged forward. “Damn, I can’t tell you how good this feels,” he said as his head dropped and his lips slid over her cheek to tease the corner of her mouth. He moaned again. “Lexie, this isn’t going to be enough. I’m going to want more, a lot more. One of us has to move.”

  “Not me. I love my apartment.”

  “Maybe, we could move in together.”

  She shook her head. “It’s way too soon for that.”

  He nodded. “I’ll figure something out.”

  He stepped out of both shoes, and the trousers that had fallen to his feet. Carelessly, he shoved them aside with his foot, b
ut not before he reached into a pocket for a condom. With her hand in his, they walked toward his couch. “Remember what we were doing last night?”

  “Umm, not really,” she teased. “Maybe you should refresh my memory.”

  “Damn, I was hoping you’d say that. We’ll start where we left off, all right?”

  She didn’t respond except to smile as she reached behind her, unhooked her bra and dropped it on his coffee table. Quickly, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and dropped it on his chair. He didn’t notice anything but her naked breasts. Without hesitation, he reached for her. “God, these are really beautiful.”

  He sat and guided her to straddle his lap. Again his hands moved to her breasts. “Let me do this for a few minutes,” he said on something that resembled a desperate moan. “God,” he muttered. As if he were an addict who had finally gained his fix, he seemed helpless against this pleasure. “I needed to touch these, to touch you, all of you.”

  She shuddered as a soft sound escaped her throat. “Take your time,” she murmured to his grin.

  “We need to kiss.”

  “Do we? If we kiss, my mind’s bound to stray to your mouth, and I won’t be able to concentrate on what you’re doing.” She nodded toward his hands, obviously indicating the way he was holding, weighing, shaping and reshaping her breasts.

  “Would you need to concentrate if I did this?” he asked, as his fingers slipped to her nipples and gently squeezed.

  “Oh boy,” she moaned as she fell weakly against him.

  “Do you like this?”

  “I love this,” she said, her mouth against his throat, her tongue savoring the clean, warm skin she found there.

  He smiled. “Now, is it time to kiss?”

  She gave a low grunt. “Now, it’s time to do anything you want.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “Jim, stop talking.”

  “I need to talk. Talking makes it last longer, makes all of this sexier.”

  “It couldn’t be any sex—” she muttered, unable to finish.

  He shifted, and she was easily pressed to her back, reclining on his couch, while he loomed above her. His mouth was hot, hungry, wet and delicious. Lexie was instantly lost in its delectable heat.