His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. 'No, probably
not. You never know just who might be watching you.'
Funny how that was supposed to sound like a warning but
Funny how that was supposed to sound like a warning but
came off as a temptation. He shifted his bag over his
shoulder and looked me over, seeming as though he might
say something else, but satisfied himself instead with
another smile. With a little wave he backed off and got in a
car across the aisle. It was newer than mine, a dark blue
hybrid, which told me that at least he was environmentaly
responsible as wel as hot.
I waved, too, and watched him drive away. For a second
or two the memory of Jack's face shimmered and merged
with my mystery man's. It made me shiver and I put the
thought from my mind. Jack had been a long time ago, and
a different time. I was a different me back then.
Or so I thought.
Chapter 11
Though I'd checked my mail that morning, I couldn't resist
peeking into my mailbox when I got home. Through the
smal glass window I expected to see nothing, so at first,
that's al I saw. Then the black sliver of shadow on the
mailbox's metal floor caught my gaze and my breath
razored my throat as I sucked it in. I hid my cough behind
my hand. There was something in my mailbox.
A Tenant Association flyer, probably. The T.A. was
notorious for its enthusiasm for memos. But they usualy
came on half slips of cheap computer paper, the message
printed multiple times on one sheet and torn in halves or
thirds. This was not a memo from the T.A.
I puled out the card, stil not addressed to me, and looked
around with sudden suspicion. I have never liked surprises.
Not in parties, not in relationships, not in practical jokes.
I saw other tenants in the lobby and standing by the
elevators. Some with unfamiliar faces moved past me
toward the stairs to the basement. Nobody looked at me.
If anyone was watching to see what I'd do, they were
being very shy about it.
being very shy about it.
And why should anyone be watching? I'd passed the other
notes along to the rightful recipient. Chances were good
the person putting them in the wrong box didn't even know
they'd gone through a different one first. Yet something
about it seemed off. Who would keep making the same
mistake over and over?
Unless it wasn't a mistake?
But I could think of no reason why anyone would be
slipping me sexy little instructions. I looked around again. I
tapped the card against my palm. I looked at the mailbox
