“I might not be the classiest guy around, but I’m not a complete asshole either,” he breathes into my hair when he bends down to push in my chair. I inhale sharply when his warm breath meets my ear and goose bumps crawl across my arms. He notices my reaction and smiles again smugly. “So, Lindsay, let’s start over, on the right foot this time.” He takes a cup of coffee out of the cardboard carrier and hands it to me. “I’m Jonah Murphy, your awesome and handsome next-door neighbor.” I can’t help but smile at him.
Jonah is cute in a frat boy kind of way. He’s tall and has sandy blond hair and dark brown eyes with just a sprinkling of dark facial hair along the jawline. He wears khakis and a polo t-shirt, his appearance telling me he’s stuck somewhere between party animal and prep student.
“How old are you?” I ask.
“Twenty-four,” he says with a small chuckle. “You?”
“Twenty-five, almost twenty-six.”
“See, we can be friends.” He smiles and takes a sip of his coffee. I roll my eyes.
“Let’s not put the cart before the horse, shall we?” I say sarcastically. “I saw the company you keep last night, and that’s not really my crowd.” I realize I sound really bitchy, but snorting what I assume was cocaine off a kitchen counter isn’t my thing.
“Yeah, about that… that’s not really my thing either, but it’s my friends’ thing… so I deal with it.” He pauses. “Where are you from? I heard a little southern in that snippy tone of yours last night.” I like his wittiness and can’t help but smile at his remark.
“North Carolina. I moved here yesterday.”
“Ah, that makes sense. I’ve been the lone occupant on the twenty-second floor for almost a year now. So to say I was surprised about having a new next-door neighbor would be an understatement.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” I mumble and take a sip of coffee.
“I’m hardly disappointed,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “And I’m sorry about the music last night. Now that I know I have a neighbor, I’ll be more respectful.”
“Well, I appreciate that. And thank you for the coffee.”
“Oh, there are muffins too.” He reaches across me and grabs the paper bag.
“Thanks, but I’m not feeling all that great.” I place my hand on my stomach.
“Why is your hand shaking like that?” Jonah questions me.
“I’m just tired and not feeling well. It’s been a long couple of days,” I say as I scan the living room, looking for the pill bottle that I kicked off the couch last night. I spot it peeking out from underneath the coffee table. Sliding off the tall chair, I walk over to the table and pick up the pill bottle. I open it and pop two pills and toss the bottle onto the couch. Jonah watches me intently, taking in every move I make. His eyes follow me back to the island, where I wash down the pills with a swallow of coffee.
“That going to make you feel better?” he asks suspiciously.
“Yes. But that’s really none of your business, is it?” I reply sharply and his eyes widen in surprise.
“Well, on that note, neighbor… I’ll be leaving.” He pushes his chair away from the island and stands up. “It was nice to formally meet you.” He smiles. “And I promise to be a better neighbor.” He walks to the door and opens it. “If you need anything—sugar, eggs, a friend—I’m just next door.” He glances back to me before he steps through the threshold and disappears with the click of the door behind him.
Cinching the belt around my waist, I stand back and study myself in the mirror. I’m exhausted, but I look good. First impressions are everything in this business and I plan to rock my first day at work. This red silk sheath dress with three-quarter sleeves and nude heels screams power. I’ve curled my long, blonde hair so that it hangs in loose tendrils and my make-up is perfect—smoky eye shadow makes my light blue eyes pop. Gold accessories complete the outfit and I’m ready to go.
I swap out my oversized handbag for a more chic clutch and grab my car keys and cell phone. “Let’s do this,” I mumble to myself in the mirror.
The elevator is waiting for me as I approach. Just as I step in, I hear Jonah’s voice. “Hold the elevator.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
“Well, well, well… look at you,” he says with a whistle. “Aren’t we stunning this morning? Where are you off to, looking like that?”
“First day at the new job,” I grumble as I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He looks like he’s fourteen as he’s dressed in a pair of athletic shorts and t-shirt, and his blond hair is tucked under a baseball cap turned backwards. “Why are you wearing a backpack?” I inquire as he presses the L on the elevator keypad to bring us to the lobby.