Friday evening traffic in Banoufield was a clusterfuck.
Constant honks and angry shouts overlap each other. The people responsible for such things didn't seem to care that it only worsened their situation. Perhaps they thought that expressing their suffering of being trapped in a jam and making everyone else feel the pain would help them carry the weight of boredom. It was not.
Seeing that with her own two eyes, Keira was glad she got a cheap apartment only fifteen minutes away from Reagan Hendrick Library. Even if said apartment was in the pretty shady part of town where a petty crime was a norm, she had to equip her door with three padlocks each night. And her window, of course. God knew that a drunkard managed to slip into her apartment and sleep on the couch one time.
Keira was sure she got a heart attack that morning. On another note, that feat was also quite impressive for a drunk man. Considering her place was on the second floor. Although, maybe she should be worried that a drunk man could achieve that. Imagine what a sober, strong, young man with a specific objective of raiding her apartment would do if given a chance?
Ah. Hyde was right. She should look for a new place.
Hefting the grocery bags and giving the part-time clerk a smile, Keira walked out of the store. The honking and shouting escalated as there was no longer a thick glass panel separating them. Compared to the many cars stuck before the traffic lights, the number of people tottering in the pedestrian area was fewer. She had concluded that the people in this city were lazier than they required. It was kind of funny when tired drivers glanced in jealousy as she strode past them.
As she turned to the end of the block, the row of pretty decent apartment buildings spread out before her. Halfway down the lane was her three-story apartment, painted in faded blue that now looked more grey. Some teenagers were hanging out on the opposite side of her building, marveling at the sleek, red car looking so expensive she got nervous just thinking about the insurance payments for it.
Then, she realized it for what it was.
A damning omen parking nicely in front of her apartment building.
Keira stopped on her track. She took a relatively long moment to stare at the innocent car that mocked her. Looking up, she glared at the illuminated windows of her apartment where one Nathaniel Wolfe, the crowned most annoying patron of the week, was clearly having his day. At the cost of her sanity.
She sighed forlornly, shoulders sagged down. Not only because of the physical burdens on her arms but also the metaphorical ones. Keira was immediately overwhelmed, exhausted, and wary, knowing she was about to enter a battlefield without anyone backing her up. It was her own apartment. It should be her upper hand in dealing with the enemy. However, the enemy was already invading her stronghold.
With another heavy sigh, she seemed to be doing a lot since this morning, Keira tightened her hold on the grocery bags as if they were a morning star imbued with powerful charms from mighty mages from the Middle Age. The climb to her second floor was short, but there was no hiding her thundering heartbeat acting as a battle drum. A piece of background music in her head. She didn't bother unlocking the door. Nate had kindly done so for her. Truly a gentleman. For villains' standards, she meant.
Something not quite like chaos greeted her. Oh, wait. It was too orderly to be called chaos. In fact, there was no sign of any disorder in her usually messy – it was intended – apartment. That made it feel like she was walking into a stranger's home, like putting on jeans one size smaller.
For one, the main rooms were neat and tidy. No more haphazardly placed shoes near her doorstep. No more carelessly thrown cushions around the TV. No more worn blanket she draped on the back of the couch for when the night was cold, and she was too exhausted to move inside.
Tentatively, Keira sauntered to the kitchen. She quickly put the grocery bags on the counter, staring wide-eyed at the sink. Even two hours of scrubbing had never made her kitchen sink sparkle quite like that. The low hum of something mechanical made her frown, and she whipped around to where her washing machine was located. It was happily spinning with what was supposed to be the dirty laundry she ought to be tomorrow morning. Not tonight. Particularly not by the man who had the audacity to appear from inside her bathroom with a grin and rolled up sleeves that proudly displayed his muscled, veiny forearms.
"Why do all girls like to make their man wait? I've waited for you for two hours, you know? What did you do, anyway?" Nathaniel Wolfe remarked as though he didn't just break into someone's house and clean their place. Even so, no real disgruntlement could be heard from his deep and soothing voice.
"There's a monthly meeting for the staff," Keira shook her head. Why did she tell him that? Steeling her resolve, she spoke up her mind. "You've crossed the boundaries, sir. Do you want me to call the police?"
"No, I want you to call me Nate," he responded without missing a beat. "But, you can also call me sweetheart or honey. I'm not too picky. Just not Mr Wolfe or sir or boss. I have enough people calling me that."
"That's it. I'm calling the police!"
"No!" Nate shot up, suddenly crowding her with his tall, athletic frame. Keira didn't have a choice but to jerk away until her back was against the shaking washing machine. His entire body blocked her freedom. "Please don't call the police."
"Back off!" Keira was glad that he compiled without a fuss. At least, the distance between them had grown into a meter apart. "Why are you doing this? People don't break into someone's home and casually clean their place. How will you explain that?"
"First thing first, put down your phone," Nate warily eyed her thumb that hovered over the call icon on her phone. The local emergency number clearly displayed on her lit-up screen. "I don't want your thumb to slip and accidentally call the police."
"There is nothing accidental about me calling the police after," she put so much emphasis on that word, "You broke into my apartment, Mr Wolfe. I don't know what kingdom you rules or how many private islands you could buy with your money–"
"It's not a kingdom, exactly., more like a–"
"I don't care!" Keira yelled in frustration. "You have sixty seconds to tell me your reason before I press call."
"Only one minute? I've had orga–"
"Fifty eight."
"Okay, okay, I get it!" Nate huffed. "Geez, I don't know if a librarian can be this strict."
"Fifty three."
"Ugh… where do I start? So, as promised, I arrived here at seven. Lo and behold, you're not home. The teenagers hanging around the neighborhood looked at my car as if they would steal it and dump my dead body on the river while they were at it. I can't, despite how many people wouldn't believe it, fight against teenagers not even legal to drink yet. Therefore, I got inside your apartment building."
"That doesn't explain why you're inside my home," Keira moved her thumb slightly closer to the call icon threateningly.
"Fine, yes! It's your landlord, actually. He, ugh, was floored by my handsomeness. He's the one who let me in, by the way. So, yeah, I'm not breaking into your apartment, now, am I?" Nate tilted his head pridefully. Of what, she wasn't sure and had no desire to find out either.
What she did know, however, was that she must give a piece of her mind to her landlord. Later, though, because now she had a much more important thing to do. Namely throwing this annoyingly handsome man out of her home. "I need you to get out now."
"Oh, sure. I'll wait downstairs." Nate seemed to ponder something. "On second note, I'll just fold your clean laundry while waiting for you to shower. Change into something comfortable, okay?"
"No! Nope! No way in hell! You will get out now and never come here again."
"What about our date?"
"There's nothing called 'date' between us. In fact, there is no such thing as 'us' in the first place. You are just a patron in the library I work at, nothing more."
"But–"
"I need you to leave right now or I will really call the police. It's your choice," Keira said through gritted teeth. She didn't have the patience for Nate's suspicious actions any longer now. She imagined her thumb didn't either.
Visibly disgruntled, Nate gave up. He smiled sadly, acting as if she was the moody girlfriend who refused to dine out with him despite planning it since last week. "At least, give me a reason why you don't want to go on a date with me."
Keira stared strangely at the tall and good-looking man in front of her. Part of his sleeves was wet, even after he rolled them to his elbows. She didn't see his suit jacket in her walk inside, but the black vest and dark green shirt still covered his athletic body immaculately. Keira didn't want him to know, but she thought his messy short hair was better than his neatly combed one.
Sighing, she told him, "You're practically a stranger, a patron from the library where I work at. I don't date strangers."
"Oh, that's easy then," Nate quipped, turning around on his heel and marching to the living room area. "I just need to get to know you better. I'll see you at the library tomorrow then."
Keira frowned at the turn of events. Oh, wait, what did he mean by that? He gave up that easily?
"And one more thing," Nate continued from the doorway. She didn't notice that his suit jacket was on the back of the door where she usually hangs her coat. "There's cookies in the oven. They should be done in about five more minutes. Enjoy!"
Keira didn't know whether she should be terribly impressed by his efficiency or just plain terrified about what else he would do in the two hours he was alone in her apartment. She hoped Nate didn't look around her bedroom and dig into her underwear drawer.
The moment Nate closed the door after giving her one last dazzling grin and waving goodbye, Keira dashed to her bedroom to check for any dubious evidence that Nate was there.
A dark green pocket square mocked her from the tiny gap in her underwear drawer. Her hope crumbled to dust.