elevators were always our thing. Well, everything was our thing.
"We'll have to talk about your clothing choice," he murmurs.
I can feel my resolve slipping away like a sand timer with a hole busted out of the side. I can't give in today. For once in my damned life, I've got to stand my ground. I can't let him into my apartment.
My eyes are on the floor as the elevator door slides open and I hear an apartment door open down the hall. I hope Mrs. Lowt spots Des and comes shooting out. I really hope she does. She hates him and I could use all the distractions I can get to keep him out of my apartment. I shift from foot to foot, waiting to be saved as Des steps off the elevator and into the hall.
Instead, Aidan emerges from his apartment and comes straight toward us. My stomach drops. Des turns back when he realizes I haven't followed him and catches me looking at Aidan. Aidan catches the whole eye-conversation too. The two begin eye-jousting as Aidan puts his hand on the elevator door to keep it open.
"How's it going, Lydia?" he says. "Want to share an elevator ride down?"
Desmond answers for me, "No, she doesn't. We were just coming up."
"Funny," Aidan tips his head, looking only at me. "I thought I just heard you go out."
Des puts out his hand.
"Let's go, Lyddle," he says.
"Or you could just ride down with me," Aidan returns, his voice all warm and inviting. I want to hide from them both. Des puts his fingertips on Aidan's arm.
"I didn't get your name?" Des says. It's not a friendly inquiry. Not from the look on his face. Aidan shoots him a wise-ass smile as he pulls his arm away.
"I'm her neighbor," he says. Then, back to me, "So, how about it, Lydia? You want to come with me?"
"Tell this man that you don't, Lyddle," Des says tightly. "Right now, please."
"I'm fine," I say.
"You don't look fine."
"This is none of your business," Desmond says and Aidan's glare swings at him.
"And who are you ? What's your name, buddy? Is it George?"
"This is my husband, Aidan," I say flatly. I step out of the elevator as every trace of expression slides right off Aidan's face. He goes silent and takes a step backward as if he's been pushed into the lift.
"Oh," he says. Des leans in and hits the ground floor button. The elevator doors slide closed on Aidan's blank face.
"Nice to meet you," Desmond replies with a little wave.
<<<<>>>>
"Let's go have a talk," Des says.
"Not now. You can't just show up. I have things to do."
"I'll pay for your time," he says, reaching into his pocket. He extracts a wad of bills, wrapped in a thick green roll and secured with a rubber band.
He planned it this way.
He knew I'd object.
But I can use the money.
I tell myself I'll use it to get divorce papers. Yeah, right. I take the wad.
We walk down to my apartment. I slide the key in the door. Mrs. Lowt doesn't save me.
"So, Lydia." Des's voice is all smooth once we're inside, running his vocal fingers over my mental shelves, checking for dust. "Your neighbor--Aidan, wasn't it?--he's very protective over you. Why?"
"I have no idea. He just moved in," I say. I stand near the door as Des tours the apartment, observing the empty, re-installed shelves, the trash can still full of broken glass, checking the view from the window.
"Who's George?" he says.
"A friend."
"A friend." He takes his time crossing the room. "Lyddle, do you think that's appropriate?"
"Don't play with my head, Des," I say, raising my chin. He reaches up, curling his fingers under it and resting his thumb on my chin. "You're only my husband on paper."
"You've gotten such a smart mouth," he says, his eyes on my lips. The horrible tingle of his touch makes me feel like he's rubbing dirt all over me. Even worse, I like it. "I might need to do something about that mouth."
"I'm not doing anything with you right now."
He smirks, his eyes trailing down to my
"We'll have to talk about your clothing choice," he murmurs.
I can feel my resolve slipping away like a sand timer with a hole busted out of the side. I can't give in today. For once in my damned life, I've got to stand my ground. I can't let him into my apartment.
My eyes are on the floor as the elevator door slides open and I hear an apartment door open down the hall. I hope Mrs. Lowt spots Des and comes shooting out. I really hope she does. She hates him and I could use all the distractions I can get to keep him out of my apartment. I shift from foot to foot, waiting to be saved as Des steps off the elevator and into the hall.
Instead, Aidan emerges from his apartment and comes straight toward us. My stomach drops. Des turns back when he realizes I haven't followed him and catches me looking at Aidan. Aidan catches the whole eye-conversation too. The two begin eye-jousting as Aidan puts his hand on the elevator door to keep it open.
"How's it going, Lydia?" he says. "Want to share an elevator ride down?"
Desmond answers for me, "No, she doesn't. We were just coming up."
"Funny," Aidan tips his head, looking only at me. "I thought I just heard you go out."
Des puts out his hand.
"Let's go, Lyddle," he says.
"Or you could just ride down with me," Aidan returns, his voice all warm and inviting. I want to hide from them both. Des puts his fingertips on Aidan's arm.
"I didn't get your name?" Des says. It's not a friendly inquiry. Not from the look on his face. Aidan shoots him a wise-ass smile as he pulls his arm away.
"I'm her neighbor," he says. Then, back to me, "So, how about it, Lydia? You want to come with me?"
"Tell this man that you don't, Lyddle," Des says tightly. "Right now, please."
"I'm fine," I say.
"You don't look fine."
"This is none of your business," Desmond says and Aidan's glare swings at him.
"And who are you ? What's your name, buddy? Is it George?"
"This is my husband, Aidan," I say flatly. I step out of the elevator as every trace of expression slides right off Aidan's face. He goes silent and takes a step backward as if he's been pushed into the lift.
"Oh," he says. Des leans in and hits the ground floor button. The elevator doors slide closed on Aidan's blank face.
"Nice to meet you," Desmond replies with a little wave.
<<<<>>>>
"Let's go have a talk," Des says.
"Not now. You can't just show up. I have things to do."
"I'll pay for your time," he says, reaching into his pocket. He extracts a wad of bills, wrapped in a thick green roll and secured with a rubber band.
He planned it this way.
He knew I'd object.
But I can use the money.
I tell myself I'll use it to get divorce papers. Yeah, right. I take the wad.
We walk down to my apartment. I slide the key in the door. Mrs. Lowt doesn't save me.
"So, Lydia." Des's voice is all smooth once we're inside, running his vocal fingers over my mental shelves, checking for dust. "Your neighbor--Aidan, wasn't it?--he's very protective over you. Why?"
"I have no idea. He just moved in," I say. I stand near the door as Des tours the apartment, observing the empty, re-installed shelves, the trash can still full of broken glass, checking the view from the window.
"Who's George?" he says.
"A friend."
"A friend." He takes his time crossing the room. "Lyddle, do you think that's appropriate?"
"Don't play with my head, Des," I say, raising my chin. He reaches up, curling his fingers under it and resting his thumb on my chin. "You're only my husband on paper."
"You've gotten such a smart mouth," he says, his eyes on my lips. The horrible tingle of his touch makes me feel like he's rubbing dirt all over me. Even worse, I like it. "I might need to do something about that mouth."
"I'm not doing anything with you right now."
He smirks, his eyes trailing down to my
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