These fuckers are going down, and the best part is… I haven’t taken my medicine, so who knows how crazy shit will get.
Opening the front door, a waft of the hall air comes inside brushing across her face, strands of her hair flying to the side. Her shoulders rise and she lifts one foot to step outside and the next until she is in the hall. She looks around, her neck muscles tense. There’s not much to see. There’s the neighbor’s door, gold and cream tones on the carpet runner on the floor, and some ceiling lights leading the way up and down the hall.
“This way,” I tell her, motioning her to the elevator at the end of the hall.
She starts walking that way, looking over her shoulder every few seconds. She’s terrified and there’s nothing I can do to make it go away. She’s going to have to find her own confidence. Inside the elevator, the doors shut and it jerks before lowering. She jumps with fear and grabs onto the handle mounted to the side of the wall. She slowly stands straight, her face turning red with embarrassment. I don’t say anything, I adjust my watch on my wrist, letting her work the kinks out of her fear. The double doors finally open and we walk out into the lobby. Jannet is behind the desk with her feet kicked up on the desk. She glances our way and then does a double-take. Her feet fall to the floor.
This ought to be great.
“Who the hell is this?” she asks loudly, dropping her smut book to the counter.
Luna looks up at me an unsure look of what to do and I put my hand on the small of her back again, just a simple touch to reassure her that everything is okay.
“Jannet, this is my friend Luna,” I introduce.
She stands up and walks toward us, and I’m actually surprised. I’ve never seen her get off her ass.
She’s wearing a black satin button-up blouse with tight jeans and bright blue heels. She looks like many women of New York, not someone working the lobby of an upscale apartment building.
“How come I’ve never seen you with a girl before, I thought you’s was gay,” she smarts, placing her hand on her hip.
“I’m not gay,” I inform with a sharp tongue, and I hear Luna’s light laugh. This encourages Jannet to cackle like a hyena.
“Where your shoes, baby?” she questions, looking down at Luna’s feet. Feeling the need to get this over with, I step in front of Luna.
“That’s where we’re going. To get some shoes.” I push Luna toward the door of the garage and Jannet’s face scowls.
“Oh no, you don’t want to walk out there without some kind of protection, baby.” She turns, her hand hung out in front of her as if she was showing us an engagement ring but her fingers are bare of jewelry, just really long fake nails that make me wonder how she does anything in them. She sashays to the desk and pulls out a black bag, propping it on her chair and unzipping it. She tugs out some black and white tennis shoes and holds them in her hand as she comes back to us. Her heels click-clacking on the golden lobby floor.
“Wear these shoes until you get you some, you can drop them off at the desk when you get back.” She hands them to Luna, and she reaches out and takes them with a grateful look on her face, her cheeks turning a light pink.
“T-hank you,” Luna says so politely. I’ve lived here for years and Jannet hasn’t even given me a second glance, let alone talk to me as much as she’s talked to Luna just now. What the hell?
“Why are you being so nice?” I interrogate as Luna drops the shoes to the floor and slips a foot into each one.
“What’ch you mean? I’m always nice!” Her voice carries through the lobby, and I scoff. She’s never nice.
“They fit!” Luna says with excitement.
Jannet cackles again and claps her hands once. “Bam, good juju coming my way!”
I just shake my head. “Thanks for the shoes, we’ll be back.” I push Luna toward the door again and this time she actually moves.
“Alright, you two kids have fun!” she says over her shoulder, walking back to her desk.
Outside the door in the garage, Luna looks at me with a big smile.
“Wow, is everyone that nice?”
“No, New York is mostly assholes,” I tell her just as we reach my SUV. I open the door for her and she slips in, but looks in the back seat before fully sitting down. She’s so paranoid, it’s starting to make me look over my shoulder.
Rounding the Navigator, I get in the driver’s seat and start the car. Glancing to her before we pull out, I notice her nostrils flare, and her eyes darting everywhere. She’s gotta relax before she has a stroke.