by Tia Wylder
“Do you want your schedule or not?” The woman from the front desk glared at her and waved a piece of paper at her.
Oh! She had completely forgotten about that. “Thanks.” She smiled victoriously as she looked down at the piece of paper clutched in her hand. She did it. She got the job!
Elizabeth bounded down the steps leading up to the building. Was it just her, or was the sun shining brighter now? Everything seemed cleaner and more vibrant. Trying to keep her composure, she managed to wait until she was in her car before she squealed with excitement. Best. Day. Ever.
The memory of Mr. Page’s eyes staring into her, almost laughing at her, made her shiver. This was certainly going to be an interesting experience. She revved up her car’s engine, and it sputtered out of the parking spot towards her new home. The realtor was supposed to meet her there in about half an hour to hand over the keys. Today was going to be full of blessings, in more way than one.
When she eased into the driveway of her new home, a brick mailbox greeted her beside a ‘SOLD’ sign. This was it. A shiny, red convertible was parked on the street. The realtor must already be inside. Elizabeth slid slowly out of her own blue clunker, taking in the sight of her soon-to-be-official home. Beautiful grey siding trimmed with pristine white trim cast a cool shadow over her. It was classy, inviting, and all hers.
“Hello?” She opened the door and peeked around the frame.
“Oh! You caught me.” Greta Kane leaned out of the kitchen. As far as realtors go, she was the most thoughtful in the business. A tray of warm chocolate chip cookies was nestled in her hands. “There is the lady of the hour. You told me you had a job interview today, right? How did it go?”
“I nailed it.” Elizabeth beamed at her, eyeing the cookies.
“Then let’s celebrate!”
Grabbing one of the cookies, she took a big bite, “Oh! Hot, hot! But good. So good.” The chocolate was molten deliciousness in her mouth.
Greta clapped her hands, “I’m so glad you like them. Okay, are you ready to sign the papers?”
“Yes!”
Greta slipped a stack of paper in front of her and handed her a pen. “The former owners are out of state, so it’s just us today. I need you to sign and date where I placed the sticky tabs, and then we’re done.”
Elizabeth grasped the pen in her hand. Her hand shook. This was the biggest step she had ever taken. It was normal to be nervous, right? The ink glided across the page. It was done. It was official. “Well, looks like I am an official member of the he-woman-homeowner’s club.”
“Perfect. Let’s go over a few final things, and then I’ll get out of your hair.” Greta led her to a control panel on the wall. “The Jeffersons had a security/sprinkler combination system installed not long ago. To set it, you just punch in 5513 followed by the ‘arm’ button. If you need to turn it off, type in 3155, and then you just have to punch the ‘off’ button. For emergencies, hit 5529. That will set it off immediately and call the authorities. The security company has already been notified that you are the new owner, so they shouldn’t give you any problems. I wrote it all down on a slip of paper over there, so you should be fine.” She pointed to a sticky note by the sink.
“Thank you so much, Greta. I really appreciate everything you’ve done to help me.”
“Oh, honey, it’s my pleasure! If you need anything else, just let me know!” She gathered her briefcase and a copy of the signed papers.
Elizabeth walked her out, “Bye! Be safe!”
“You, too!” Greta glanced at Elizabeth’s car, “You might want to put that in the garage. The homeowners’ association can get a bit nasty about older models.”
“Oh, okay.” Her car wasn’t that bad, was it? It had a few dents and dings, but it still ran just fine. She watched Greta drive away with a honk, but now she was worried about her car. “One thing at a time. New job, new home, new me.”
It was strange, living alone. The house was so empty right now, aside from the cookies. It would be better when the movers showed up. Once the house was full of her things it would feel like home. Her eyes glanced over to the neighbor’s house. It was dark cobblestones with brown shutters and meticulously maintained flowerbeds. A black roof with overhanging porches made it seem formidable and removed. It was practically a mansion. Maybe Greta was right. Maybe she should move her car out of the driveway. Before she could make up her mind, a yellow moving van pulled up outside.
“Hey! Are you Miss Adams?” A man in the passenger seat rolled down his window.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“We’re in the right place.” He signaled for the driver to kill the engine. The man climbed out of the van and opened the back. He began unloading her boxes and roughly tossing them on the lawn.
“Hey, if it’s not too much trouble, could you be a little gentler with my stuff?” She winced as another box thudded to the ground.
“So, listen.” The driver waddled over to her. His t-shirt was stained with sweat and mustard. “Turns out the price we quoted you only covers moving your stuff from your old place to the new one. It doesn’t cover us taking it inside.”
“What?! What happened to the curbside service you advertised?”
“You’re looking at it. We take your junk from one curb to another. Curbside service. It’s in the name, sweetheart.” He waggled an eyebrow at her, “But, you know, if you wanted to throw in another couple hundred bucks, or maybe a date, we could take it inside for you.”
Elizabeth wrinkled her nose in disgust, “No thanks. I’ll do it myself. Just try not to break anything.” She shivered with revolt and took a few steps back.
By the time they had unloaded her boxes, the sun was high overhead. Elizabeth groaned as she looked across her lawn. It looked like a very boring birthday party had exploded presents everywhere. Wrapping her arms around the one closest to her, she lugged it inside and placed it in the living room. She marched determinedly outside to pick up another load.
Her phone rang in her pocket, “Hello?”
“Miss Adams, this is Tyler Banks with Goodwin’s Furniture Outlet.”
“Oh, great! How are you doing?”
“I’m well.”
She squinted her eyes, “Your company doesn’t do curbside service, do you?”
“No ma’am. We bring your items inside for you. I was calling to let you know we are having a little scheduling issue, and your furniture won’t be there until tomorrow. Will that be an issue?”
Elizabeth wiped some sweat from her brow and stared at the mess of boxes she still had to bring inside. Her heart sank. “Um, no. No problems here.” Disappointment dragged her down.
“Okay, we will see you tomorrow then.”
“See you tomorrow.” The line fell silent. She slowly lowered the phone from her ear. No furniture until tomorrow? Her day had started out so good. She couldn’t let these little hiccups bum her out. She could just have a sleepover in the living room using her comforter. No big deal. She could still do this.
Trying to keep her spirits up, she grabbed another box and hauled it inside. It wasn’t so bad. It would just be for one night, anyway. She could manage that. A smile drifted back across her face. It was still a good day. One by one, the boxes filled the living room. Elizabeth was covered in sweat, but she just had two more boxes left. Unfortunately, she had saved the biggest ones for last. The sun had sunk to late afternoon now, and the temperature was beginning to drop gradually. As she paused to catch her breath, a sporty car zoomed into the driveway of the cobblestone home next door.
Elizabeth dusted off her hands and smoothed her hair back as best she could. She took two steps towards the neighbor’s car to introduce herself before she froze. Emerging from the sports car was Derrick Page. Her eyes widened, and she spun around to hide her face. Maybe he hadn’t seen her yet. She heard his car door slam behind him. Silently, she begged for him to just go inside, but she wasn’t that lucky.
“Hello, I’m Derrick Page. I live next
—” He stopped talking as she turned around slowly and waved at him with shy embarrassment. “Oh. It’s you.”
Her face was red with heat from working in the sun. Why did he have to sound so disappointed? “Hi.”
His eyes grazed over her and darted to the two boxes still in the yard. “Why didn’t you change clothes before moving your boxes?”
“Well, everything is packed.” She put her hands on her hips defensively. A strand of hair fell into her face. She blew it away, not wanting to lose her strong pose.
He sighed and scooped up the final two boxes effortlessly. Turning to look at her, he clicked his tongue, “Lead the way.”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that.” He ignored her and walked into the house. Setting down the boxes in the kitchen, he shook his head at her and walked away without another word. Elizabeth called out to him, dumbfounded, “Thanks?”
She walked to the kitchen sink to splash some water on her face. Her reflection in the chrome of the faucet was blotchy and drenched in sweat. Mascara dripped down from the corner of her eye. She groaned. Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t she have been inside when he came home? Elizabeth cooled her wrists in the stream of water from the faucet and tried to forget the encounter. Turning her head, she saw the alarm system. If she had it, she might as well use it. Besides, with creeps like that mover around, she would feel safer with it on.
“Where is that…” Her voice trailed off as she looked for the piece of paper that Greta had left for her. “Oh, no.” She rushed over to the sink. The note was soaked. She must have gotten it wet when she was trying to cool down. The ink had bled into undistinguishable smudges. Pouting, she tried to pick it up. The paper disintegrated as she tried to move it. Crap.
Elizabeth scowled at the smudges. Maybe she could just do it from memory? She placed herself in front of the number pad and squinted, trying to remember the combination. There was a five, wasn’t there? She was pretty sure there was a five. Her finger hovered above the buttons. Taking a deep breath, she punched in 5513. “What was next? Arm?” She punched in the last button and the system chimed. A light on the side turned red. Was that it? She shrugged and dusted pretend dirt off her shoulder. That wasn’t so hard.
After an unsatisfying dinner of knock-off ramen noodles, she scrounged through her boxes looking for something to sleep in and a set of clothes for work tomorrow. “Oh, no.” Her fingers closed on a silky red dress that had gotten wrinkled in the move. Pouting her lips, she held it up for inspection. It was far too wrinkled to wear as it was. An idea popped into her head. Grabbing some old sweats and a stained sleeping shirt, she flounced into the bathroom. It was a trick her mom had taught her.
She closed the bathroom door and let the steam from her shower ease into the fabric of her dress. The warm, humid air relaxed the wrinkles. Elizabeth breathed in the steam. After a long day, it was nice to wash all her cares away. Her muscles ached from carrying everything in from the yard. Curbside service. What a joke. She rolled her eyes and laughed. It would certainly make a good story someday.
Smiling, her mind drifted back to Derrick—no, that felt too familiar. Mr. Page. He was certainly something, that was sure. She just hadn’t made up her mind yet on what exactly that something was. Did he live alone over there? It seemed like such a large home for one man.
She turned off the water as the heat dwindled, leaving behind only cold and frigid water. Drying herself off, she slipped into her pajamas. They weren’t flattering, but they were comfortable as heck. After the day she had, she would take all the comfort she could get. Bedtime couldn’t come soon enough. Luckily, the boxes with her bedding were clearly labeled. She busted them open and cobbled together a pallet in the floor from blankets and pillows. Elizabeth stood back to admire her handiwork. Not bad, considering what she had to work with.
Her knees sank into the pallet of blankets she had made. Elizabeth snuggled into her pillows. It was a little rough on her back, but she could deal with it for one night. All she had to do was sleep and then get ready for work tomorrow. Suddenly, her eyes flew open. Her schedule. She left it in the car. She had no idea what time she was supposed to be there tomorrow.
Scurrying out of her blankets, she turned the door knob and pulled it open. Immediately loud music filled the house. The alarm! She screamed in surprise. The sprinklers in the yard spat and sputtered to the beat of the music. Panic flooded her mind. How was she supposed to turn it off?! She couldn’t think. Her terrified fingers scrambled to punch in a code. The system didn’t respond. Shoot. She tried another combination. Still nothing.
“Oh, come on, you stupid thing!” Elizabeth stomped her foot.
“What is going on?!” Derrick ran through the door that she had left open. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of sweatpants. An intricate tattoo swirled down his left bicep. His curly hair dripped in ringlets from where he had run through the sprinklers to get inside. His eyes landed on her hopping up and down in front of the keypad. It was clear that she had no idea what she was doing. “Move!” He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and steered her away from the pad. All she could do was gape at him. His fingers expertly trailed along the keys. The house went silent. He glared at her and stomped out of the house and back across the sodden grass to his own house.
Elizabeth jumped when she heard his door slam. She hung her head. How could she have forgotten about the alarm? She wasn’t used it this yet. Sheepishly, she poked her head outside. Other neighbors were peering out of their windows in her direction. She walked to her car and grabbed her schedule. Catching the eye of the neighbor woman across the street, she waved. The woman disappeared quickly behind her curtain. “Great.” Squishing her way back to the house, Elizabeth holed up inside and cast her eyes down at her feet. Her clothes! She stomped her feet, embarrassed. Why did he have to see her like this?! She just needed to go to sleep. This day needed to end. She set her alarm and plopped back down on her pallet. Tomorrow had to be better, right?
Chapter 2: More Trouble than She’s Worth
Derrick slammed the door behind him. He was starting to regret hiring his new intern. She seemed flighty and ditzy. Even so, he couldn’t keep a scowl on his face. She had looked so clueless in front of the alarm system. Cute, but clueless. He wiped a hand over his hair to brush his curls back. He watched out the window as his new neighbor tiptoed out to her car to get something. He fought back a snicker.
When he saw the ‘SOLD’ sign go up next door, he had wondered what type of person would be moving in. When he saw it was a young woman, he thought he might be able to have a little fun. It was a shame it was her. He didn’t date employees. Besides, that girl would be more trouble than she’s worth. She was probably the type who fell in love easily. He would have to be careful with her. He wasn’t the relationship type, and even if he was, he needed a woman who could handle herself. A picture of a young boy gazed up at him from a picture frame. He had enough responsibility without adding in a relationship. It wasn’t worth it.
“Is everything ok?” A female voice called from down the hall.
Derrick put his hand against the picture frame and laid it down to hide the picture. “Everything’s fine.” He walked slowly down the hall and leaned against the doorframe. He angled his shoulders to make himself more alluring. A blonde wearing only his sheet was waiting for him in his bed. “Where were we?”
It was only a game to him. Thanks to his looks and fortune, he had his choice of women. He had started this meaningless stream of conquests to fill a hole inside of him. If he was being honest with himself it was to prove that he was desirable, that he could get any woman he wanted. There were no feelings attached aside from satisfaction, and even that had lost some of its shine over the years. He was just going through the motions at this point. Maybe it was an addiction of some sort. Sometimes he wondered if he could stop. It was engrained in him now, the pursuit, the conquest. It came as easily as breathing.
The next morning, she would be gone. Either s
he would understand that this was a one night thing, or he would ignore her calls. Either way, it would be over. Then the cycle would start over again with someone new. That’s how he liked it. No strings. He didn’t even keep up with their names anymore. He didn’t see the point to it.
“You seem tense.”
“Do I?” He smirked at the woman in his bed.
“Are you sure everything is okay? We could just talk, if you want to.”
He let out a harsh laugh. “I didn’t have you come over to talk.”
“I just meant—”
“Besides,” he pulled her closer to him, “I would rather let our bodies do the talking.”
Chapter 3: The Life of an Intern
A blaring sound woke Elizabeth from her restless sleep. Her eyes were wide as she tried to figure out where it was coming from. Her heart pounded. Finally, her fingers closed around her phone. “Shh!” She hissed at it and turned off the alarm. “Ugh, my head. My back.”
Groaning, she stood up and stretched. A sudden happiness overcame her. Today was her first day! Renewed by the thought of being one step closer to her dream job, she hurried to the bathroom to get ready. The red dress slipped over her arms, and—after a bit of tugging—it hugged her curves. “Hello, beautiful!” She admired herself in the mirror.
Quickly tossing on some makeup, she shimmied into her heels and headed for her car. “Oh, what is this now?” A flyer was tucked under her windshield wiper. Written on thick paper with a fancy letterhead was a letter from the homeowners’ association. Elizabeth mumbled the contents under her breath, “Welcome to the neighborhood! To keep our neighborhood happy, healthy, and beautiful, we would like to remind you that any vehicles over three years old should be kept in a garage or under a previously approved cover when not in use. We would also like to clarify that quiet hours are from 9:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m. Please refrain from excessive noise during these hours. Welcomingly, your local HOA.” Scowling, she crumpled up the paper. “‘Welcomingly,’ my butt.” When did they even have time to type that up, let alone shove in under her windshield wiper?
