Voyeur Extraordinaire(7)

Amy grinned at me. “I think you need to get dressed, and I have to clean the mess that’s my apartment,” she said as she rose from the chair. I stood as well and hugged her. She grinned at me widely when she pulled back. “See you tomorrow morning!” she called over her shoulder as she walked out of my apartment.

I chanced a look at Bruno who was sitting next to my leg, watching me with his tongue wedged between his teeth. He probably wanted to go on his morning walk. It was almost ten o’clock by now. If I didn't hurry I wouldn’t manage to walk Bruno, go grocery shopping and head into the park to get some writing time in before I had to be ready for work at 5. I rushed towards my dresser, all the while trying to untangle my messy hair, and put on jeans and a white blouse. Grabbing a granola bar for breakfast, I put Bruno on his leash and hurried out of the apartment with him.

We got into the elevator, which smelled of pee and vomit. I’d been trapped in the thing twice before but I was too lazy to walk down the stairs. The air was crisp when I stepped out of the building, and I shivered in my thin blouse. I’d have to fetch my jacket before I headed towards the grocery store later. Bruno was sniffing the ground and raised his leg every few feet, as if he owned every inch of this place. My eyes kept darting up to the window of Adrian Black. Amy had said he was a womanizer. I wondered how she knew and what exactly it meant. I tore my gaze away, chiding myself for my irrational behavior. This obsession had to stop.

A few minutes later, Bruno was strapped into the basket at the front of my scooter, his doggy goggles protecting his eyes and his tongue lolling in the wind as I meandered through traffic. A few cars honked when I cut in front of them, but I ignored them. I wedged my scooter in the narrow gap between two cars in front of the small grocer. After I’d brought my groceries to my apartment, Bruno and I spent a few hours in the park. I was worried that thoughts of a certain man would stop me from working on my book, but I was actually able to ban him from my mind. Most of the time at least.

Now and then, my mind wandered back to what I'd witnessed the night before but most of the day I was too immersed in my book and later, during my job in the bar, I was too busy evading the groping hands and leery comments to think of Adrian Black.

This changed, however, the moment I returned into my apartment at 1 o'clock in the night.

My window seemed to taunt me with its mere presence while I changed into more comfortable clothes. I glared at it and pulled the curtains shut. Better safe than sorry. I didn't want to be tempted.

I made a midnight-snack salad of Avocado, tomatoes and lettuce for me, and ate it at the kitchen table. Bruno was pressed against my leg, but except for his breathing and the sound of my chewing, silence crowded the room. I wished Amy was here to talk about one of the new superfoods, but she was probably snuggled against Jared. Living alone, without my parents’s constant supervision, had felt like a dream come true when I first moved to New York. But after three years, I was so over it. I hated the way the walls closed in on me at night, how a cold bed greeted me when I came home from work.

Maybe I should just take a peek through the binoculars.

No.

I would resist. I wouldn't look. He probably had his curtains drawn tonight anyway. I wouldn't turn into a perverted peeping Tom.

I lay down on the small sofa pressed against the only free spot left in my apartment – between the stove and the bathroom door. Its flowery fabric smelled of dust and staleness. I turned on the TV to distract myself, scared to glance at my window and succumb to my silly desire. This unhealthy obsession had to stop. Maybe if I told myself that often enough, I’d really start to believe it.

That night I fell asleep on the sofa and the next morning my neck hurt like hell. But I decided it was worth it. After all, I’d resisted, even though my dreams had been made up of naked chests and golden hair.





Chapter Three





My fingers curled around the counter and I pressed my eyes shut, fighting the urge to grab a bottle and throw it at the head of the bastard who’d slapped my butt twice this evening. But I needed this job and seriously injuring a customer with a bottle was probably exactly the reason Jack needed to kick me out. This day had been a fucking train-wreck from the moment I’d woken with a brain-splitting headache to the moment I’d arrived at work five minutes late and had to listen to Jack’s screaming.

“Puppet,” the slurred voice of Ass-slapper carried into my ears and I forced my eyes open with a deep breath. For a moment they lingered on the display of liquor towering above me but then I turned to the customer with a fake smile. He was sitting at the table closest to the bar and I had to pass him every time I delivered drinks to a table. Very clever. The guy was shit-faced. He was clutching the edge of the table to keep himself from toppling off his chair. I made my way toward him and he actually managed to lift his glass. “Be a doll and bring me another scotch.”