Utterly Forgettable Page 4

  Blake appeared right after the movers showed up and spent the next hour helping me get situated. When he asked how things were going with Zane I opened my mouth to let him have it. Then I thought about my recent vow of professionalism and decided telling him that his friend was a giant turd would be counterproductive, so I told him I was still figuring it all out. That was the best I could do at the moment.

  After promising to visit him at Whisky’s, Blake took off and I made my rounds to each apartment. During introductions I explained who I was and how each tenant could reach me if need be. Most of the tenants quickly took my hand out and dismissed me. A few wanted to know more about me. Tenants F and H were not at home and tenant E had a bad cold and would only speak to me through the door. Mr. Brass in Apartment D was a giant flirt. I had to admit, with his dark hair and salt and pepper beard, he was attractive for an older man. He had a definite sparkle in his eye, that’s for sure. When he told me how much I reminded him of his dead daughter, I teared up. His story of how she used to make him homemade chocolate chip cookies made my heart break. The poor man was all alone in the world. When I offered to make him some cookies he grabbed me and gave me a big hug. As he pulled away I could see tears in his eyes. What a sweet, sweet man.

  My last tenant to visit was the woman who lived across from Zane in Apartment B. I knew it was a woman who occupied the apartment because I had seen her lurking in the entry hall of our building a few times. However, each time I ventured downstairs to introduce myself, she was gone. As I knocked on her door I thought about poor Mr. Brass and wondered what happened to Mrs. Brass.

  I was about to give up and return to my apartment when a voice from the other side of the door said, “Whatever you are selling I am not buying. Oh, unless it’s chocolate. I love chocolate.”

  “Hi, my name is Cathryn Haines. I’m your new apartment manager. I just wanted to stop by and introduce myself,” I half shouted through the door.

  The door opened so quickly I jumped and nearly tripped over my own feet. The first thing I noticed was her brightly colored muumuu. Tiny yellow, green and pink daisies danced across her sleeves. As they made their way toward her neckline they got bigger. By the time they hit her chest and stomach they were gigantic.

  She waved her hand in the air, “Come in!”

  I really did not want to go into her apartment but I didn’t want to be rude. Hesitantly I walked through the door. After a quick perusal, I was pleasantly surprised to find her place nicely decorated and rather homey. Her living room was similar to mine in size. However, she had carpet instead of hardwoods and normal sized windows. Her walls were painted light pink and her ceiling was pastel yellow. This went well with the whimsical shabby chic décor.

  “I’m Miss. Weston,” she announced.

  “I’m Cathryn but you can call me Cat,” I told her. I whipped out the flyer with my information on it and held it out to her. “This has my contact information on it. If I don’t answer, please leave a message. If it is an apartment emergency, you can call Zane. If it is a health emergency, please call nine-one-one.”

  “You can call me Miss Weston,” she repeated, “and, if you don’t mind, I prefer dealing strictly with Zane.”

  “Oh, uh, okay, do you mind telling me why?” I asked.

  She smiled. “Not at all. In fact, I’m glad you asked. This way we can clear the air and be great friends. Zane and I have a very special connection, if you catch my drift,” she winked.

  Oh, I caught her drift all right. A picture of Zane’s giant penis from earlier this morning flashed through my brain and I quickly squelched it. I didn’t want to judge but it was really hard not to. Miss. Weston was definitely old enough to be Zane’s mother. The thought of him sticking it to her made me sad. Not because I was jealous or wanted him to stick it to me or anything, but because he was young and beautiful and should be sticking in someone his own age. After spending fifteen minutes assuring her that I was not sexually interested in Zane, I managed to escape. I will be more than happy to let Zane deal directly with her in the future, no problem.

  Before handling the rest of the items on my list, I took a late afternoon break and unpacked my clothes. After putting them away I headed downstairs to Zane’s place to pay bills, update his calendar and organize his computer files. I considered taking a look around upstairs. Due to this morning’s commotion, I didn’t get a chance to check out the rest of his apartment. Knowing my luck Zane probably had cameras watching my every move. Pretending to stretch my arms, I scanned his office. I didn’t spot any cameras but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. A friend of mine in Pennsylvania had a nanny cam in a book on her bookshelf. Glancing up at the bookshelves in front of me, I sighed. There were at least a hundred books, if not more. A camera could be hidden in any one of them. I decided not to risk it. One major infraction was enough for one day.

  By the time I made it back to my apartment it was dinnertime and I was starving. Too bad I had no food. I could just imagine Zane’s face when he busted me raiding his refrigerator.

  “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” I mocked in my deepest Zane Mitchell voice. “Do you-”

  I was interrupted by a knock at the door. Should I answer it? What if it’s Miss. Weston or even worse, what if it’s Zane? I wasn’t sure I could handle either of them twice in one day. Should I answer it? Of course I had to answer it. It was part of my job. When they knocked a second time I realized I was being rude. Tossing down the dish towel, I rushed to the front door and rose to my tiptoes to look through the peep hole. With a sigh of relief, I flipped the lock and opened the door. An elderly woman holding a pot of something delicious smelling smiled at me.

  “May I help you?” I asked.

  “Hi! I saw I missed you earlier and wanted to stop by and introduce myself. I’m Yancy Reed. I live in Apartment H. Welcome to Riverbend. I brought you some chili.” She thrust the pot of chili at me. Yancy looked to be in her mid-fifties. With her stylish bob and flowy skirt she reminded me of my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Hicks.

  “Oh, Thank you,” I said, taking the pot from her. “Would you like to come in?”

  As she followed me into the apartment she said, “I can tell straight off the bat you are a good egg.” Not sure how to respond, I thanked her. “And such good manners. The last girl was just downright rude. Don’t get me wrong, she was a looky-loo but she had a mean heart.” As if someone other than the two of us could hear her, she whispered, “A mean, mean heart.” I assumed she was referring to Zane’s previous PA, the one who quit under mysterious circumstances. “After everything that happened with Zane’s father and his poor mother settling for that horrible man who spent all her money, I was glad Zane came to his senses and got rid of that bad seed. He is such a special man,” she continued. A million and one questions were on the tip of my tongue but I meant it when I promised to be more professional. Gossiping about my boss, no matter how much I wanted to do it, was not professional.

  “Thank you for the chili. Did you say you were in apartment H? I want to make sure I return the pot to the correct home,” I told her.

  “I sure am,” she smiled, then she glanced down at her watch and gasped, “Oh no! I’m about to miss Law and Order! Take your time and enjoy the chili. When you return the pot we can talk some more. I work at the needlepoint shop on Queens three days a week, so Monday and Fridays are the best days for chats. Zane is a sweetheart. You are going to fit right in here. I can just tell.” On that note, she swept out of the apartment and closed the door behind her.

  Just how sweet is Zane? I wondered if Blake knew his best friend had a cougar fetish.

  The next morning I set my alarm for early. I needed to get to the grocery store before I picked up the list from Zane. I made sure to grab fixings for chocolate chip cookies while I was out. I can’t believe I offered to make some strange man cookies. Nothing about my life these days was normal. I wanted to make a good impression and Mr. Brass seemed like such a nice man, even if
he was a big flirt. Everyone I met yesterday had a story and I looked forward to getting to know them all better.

  By the time I unloaded groceries it was five minutes past nine. Thank goodness Zane liked to sleep late. I thought about the possible cameras in his office and my stomach dropped. I needed to get a move on. By the time I changed from my yoga pants to my work outfit, it was nine twenty. On my way to the stairs I nearly tripped over one of the potted plants and had to stop to make sure I didn’t break a heel. Damn you, Zane Mitchell. I could tell by the gleam in his eye yesterday he was punishing me. Now I had to wear dress clothes all day. Why didn’t I just keep my mouth closed? Quietly I slipped into his apartment and rushed to the office. I was caught short when I noticed Zane sitting behind his desk.

  Crap!

  He looked up at me and frowned. Then he held something up and said, “Here.”

  He was wearing a t-shirt and track pants. I hated to admit it but casual looked really good on him. Why did he have to be so attractive? Focusing on the object in his hand, I tried not to think about how good he looked or the fact he had an old lady fetish.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “It’s a watch. Apparently you don’t have one,” he glibly replied.

  “As a matter of fact, I have two watches and a phone.” I held up my phone to show him. His eyebrow quirked and I tried not to smile. Apparently I failed.

  “You find this funny?” he quietly asked. I sobered my expression. Obviously Mr. Chuckles had a bad night. Maybe Miss. Weston wasn’t feeling frisky and he had to go without. “I expect you here at nine. I am paying you to be here at nine. You were here at nine twenty-eight. This,” he pointed to the watch, “has an alarm which I have specifically set for nine o’ clock. In the future, if it goes off and you are not standing in my office, we will have a problem. Do I make myself clear?”

  God! Could he be any more of a jerk? “Seriously, I have my own watch,” I told him.

  “Do I make myself clear?” he sternly repeated.

  “Yes,” I sighed, and took the watch. Our fingers touched and we both froze. For a brief second our eyes met. The last thing I needed to be feeling, especially for this man, was attraction. Surprise appeared on his face. Then he blinked and it was gone.

  “Now, I went over your list from yesterday and want to point out a few mistakes,” he told me.

  I had a feeling I knew why his previous PA quit. It was no mystery. It was actually very simple. Zane Mitchell was a giant horse’s ass.

  Chapter Six

  Zane

  ‡

  Today I needed to get up earlier than usual in order to meet Blake, Hunter and my attorneys at the bank to finalize the purchase of a beer distributorship. We’d been working all month to get to this day and I was ready to get it finalized. The initial purchase of the distributorship was on me, but once the business was making a profit Blake and Hunter would pay me back and we would all have equal shares. There was a huge upside if the purchase was successful. If it tanked, I would lose my investment and be seriously disappointed. I had a lot riding on this.

  While waiting for my coffee to brew, I leaned against the counter and thought back to last night and Blake’s question of how things were going with Cathryn. I couldn’t give him a good answer because I really didn’t have one. Between Whisky’s and working on the distributorship deal I had been busy. In fact, I’d barely been around at all. How are things going? I don’t have the faintest clue. I made a mental note to check in with Cathryn later on today and find out. Surely if something was wrong she would have notified me by now? I tried to remember the last conversation we’d had in person and couldn’t. I’d been keeping late nights and sleeping in past nine every morning. Beth couldn’t go ten seconds without phoning or texting me about something or another but Cathryn was the complete opposite.

  The coffee pot began making its final death throw noises and I waited for it to sputter out before pouring a cup. Then I carried it across the dining room to my office. Cathryn had straightened up my desk again. This is exactly why I wasn’t too worried about her lack of communication. Cathryn was a natural. Not only did she effectively accomplish everything on the list each day but she also managed to fit in extras, such as cleaning my office. After our rough start, she made up for it by continuing to make me coffee every morning. I have to say, the woman makes some damn good coffee. Another morning I accidentally left a basket of dirty laundry at the bottom of the stairs. When I got home after work the clothes were sitting in the basket washed and neatly folded. A few days later I left another basket of dirty clothes in the same spot. Once again, they were clean and folded when I got home. I wasn’t sure what to make of this. Beth would have hit me up for a raise by now or at least attempted to charge by the load. Now that I think about it, Beth really was quite awful.

  Needing to get a move on, I parked my ass behind my nice clean desk and pulled out the pad I used to write Cathryn’s list on. Snagging a pen from my cup holder, I lowered my hand to the page and froze. Front and center on the top sheet was a drawing of a hand with the middle finger sticking up. With a bark of laughter, I ripped the offensive picture from the pad and started to crumple it up. In mid-crumple I changed my mind. Instead of throwing it away, I flattened it back out and pinned it to the bulletin board beside my desk. I guess my disappearing act hadn’t gone unnoticed after all. Poor Cathryn. I pretty much tossed her in the deep end and left her to sink or swim. I should probably apologize for being such a hard ass that morning she was late. In all fairness, though, the woman did need to learn better time management skills. The Army taught that tardiness was a sign of disrespect. I had zero tolerance for disrespect. In the end my little lesson served its purpose because Miss Haines had been quite punctual ever since.

  I was going to be late myself if I didn’t get a move on. I quickly jotted the daily list and, as an afterthought, added a postscript: Please deal with Miss Weston in Apartment C. She is driving me crazy. Then I hauled my ass upstairs to get ready for my meeting.

  Fifteen minutes later I was dressed and ready to go. As I filled my travel mug with coffee, I contemplated escaping out the back through the pool gate. The past two mornings Miss Weston had been lying in wait. The woman had become relentless. I was hesitant to walk out my front door for fear of running into her. Before placing the lid on the travel mug, I took a quick sip and grimaced. Why is my coffee always so damn bitter? If I delay the meeting a half hour I can enjoy a cup of Cathryn’s coffee. I glanced at my watch and shook my head. No such luck. With a sigh of resignation, I hurried to my office, grabbed my briefcase and headed out the back door. After punching in the code to the back gate, I peered around the corner to make sure the coast was clear. Thankfully, Miss Weston was nowhere to be seen. I was almost to my car when the front door flew open and a head popped out.

  “Zane, is that you?”

  Are you kidding me? I swear the woman is fucking stalking me! I glanced over to where Miss Weston was standing and nearly dropped my briefcase. What the hell is in her hair?

  “Hold on for a second. I need to tell you something!” she screamed.

  With a flick of my finger, I had my car door unlocked. All I could think was, RUN! Tossing my briefcase in the back, I scrambled to get my coffee in the cup holder and the key in the ignition. The engine purred to life and I glanced up. Holy shit, are those…curlers? Miss Weston was out the door and loping toward my car. The things on top of her head bobbed up and down with each step and I was reminded of the Greek mythological monster, Medusa. Don’t look her in the eyes. Shifting into reverse, I hit the gas. At the same time I rolled down my passenger window.

  “Hi Miss Weston! I’m late for a meeting this morning. I’ll have to catch up with you later!” I shouted. Before she could answer, I rolled up my window, shifted into drive and floored it.

  Of course I ran into traffic, which in turn made me later than I already was and by the time I arrived at the bank, I was in a rotten mood. Thank goodness the mee
ting went well. A little over an hour later the deal was finalized and Blake, Hunter and I were officially the proud owners of a beer distributorship. That night after work we celebrated a little too hard and when I crawled into bed sometime in the early hours the following morning I knew I was going to have a rough day of recovery. At least I wouldn’t miss another day of Cathryn’s coffee. This was my last thought before passing out.

  A strange noise woke me from a dead sleep. My first thought was, she’s back. I made sure not to move a muscle. The last thing I wanted was another hot coffee shower. After a minute of trying to pinpoint her exact location, I realized it wasn’t Cathryn who had woken me, but music…annoyingly loud music.

  What. The. Hell?

  I turned to look at the clock on my nightstand and had to swallow deep to keep from vomiting. A quarter after fucking seven in the morning. I’d had approximately three hours of sleep and my head was pounding. The wall above my head vibrated again and I winced. What the hell is that woman doing this early in the damn morning? With a frustrated snarl, I crawled out of bed and pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms. Then I stormed downstairs and out my front door. Halfway up the stairs I decided I should probably lock my door. The last time I left my apartment unlocked I came home to find Miss. Weston waiting for me in my living room. I quickly returned to my apartment and grabbed my keys. Then I locked my door and headed back up the stairs.

  As I reached the top I heard a door open downstairs. Fuck! I quickly searched for somewhere to hide.

  “Zane is that you?” Miss Weston called out.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. She’s just an old lady, I told myself. “Yes, Miss Weston, it’s me,” I called down. My stomach chose that moment to rebel. I leaned against the wall and took a few deep breaths to keep from hurling everywhere.