Alex headed to his bedroom, changing out of his robe into more casual clothes. As soon as he finished dressing, his phone rang again—Emma Winter.
"What now? Feeling lonely?"
"As if you're worthy!" she scoffed.
"Then why are you harassing me? I was about to sleep," Alex grumbled, moving to the window where Emma had reopened her curtains.
"Sleep? At this hour? What's wrong with you—that's wasting life!"
"Little girl, you don't understand. Sleep is an art form. Done poorly, it's wasteful. Done well, you might dream of the periodic table!"
"Who are you calling little girl?" Emma brandished her fist again.
Alex took a step back.
"What are you doing?" she asked, confused.
"Getting some distance."
"Are you crazy? I can see you moved back, but why?"
"Why exhaust myself exposing lies behind lies? Better to stand back and watch you perform your deceptions. So profound!"
"You... you're dead! Don't expect to sleep tonight!" Emma glared.
"Oh? What did you have in mind?" Alex asked. He'd probably be prowling the streets people-watching if he hadn't had a houseguest to consider.
"I'm calling because I'm bored!" Emma admitted.
"So I'm your entertainment now?"
"You wish! You're not that special," Emma sniffed. "But seriously, how do you fall asleep this early? Besides hitting on women on the street, what else do you do?"
"How do you know about that?"
"Grace told me!"
"Sometimes I review client files, sometimes play cards online," Alex shrugged.
"You play poker too? I love poker! Want to play a few hands?"
"Think you can handle it?"
"Don't underestimate me—I'm a pro!"
"Alright then, let's see what you've got. Who's afraid of whom?" Alex couldn't resist the challenge. Time to take her down a peg.
"I'll send you my username. Add me and we'll start..." Emma was interrupted by a cheerful tune from Alex's bathroom.
Estimating it would be at least an hour before his bathing beauty emerged—women and their endless ablutions—Alex headed to his home office.
His 1,500-square-foot apartment was meticulously organized: two bedrooms, a dedicated home office, and a storage room (formerly Grace's room).
Logging in, he noticed his username had been changed to "TotalPervert."
'Grace, you're dead tomorrow!'
He entered Emma's ID and found "SummerRain."
"Alex?" she messaged.
"Yeah."
"Nice username—very self-aware!"
"Grace changed it. She's in trouble tomorrow."
"Good for her!"
"I'm leaving."
"No wait—room's ready. Get in here!"
They joined a table with two other players.
"Ladies, video chat?" Alex immediately reverted to his playboy persona.
"Die!" came Emma's response. The others ignored him completely. Modern women were too tough.
As cards were dealt, Emma private messaged him:
"Screenshot your hand!"
Alex's forehead developed three distinct wrinkles. Who played like this? Pure cheating! With Emma playing after him, knowing his cards was a huge advantage.
"You're devious!"
"Less talk, more screenshots!"
"You're bad luck!" But Alex complied, somehow letting Emma manipulate his plays despite his better judgment.
Four winning hands later, their opponents got suspicious.
"Are you two working together?" asked 'MerMaid.'
"Who?" Emma played innocent, sending Alex a winking emoji.
"You and 'TotalPervert'!" 'WoodNymph' accused.
"Please! Don't be sore losers. I was thinking you two knew each other!" Emma deflected.
"Then how come when I played two threes, he passed, you played two fours, then he had two fours later?" WoodNymph pressed.
"Strategy, obviously!" Emma's excuse was weak.
"Hey 'TotalPervert,' speak up!" MerMaid demanded.
Alex was contemplating a response when his houseguest called out:
"Alex, do you have an extra towel? Or clothes?"
"One second!" He hurried to his bedroom, initially grabbing a large towel before reconsidering. He measured a smaller one against himself—perfect!
"Open the door a crack and I'll hand it in," he called through the bathroom door. A slender arm emerged to accept the towel.
"Alex... don't you have anything... bigger?"
"Just my used robe!"
"Oh." Alex suppressed a laugh at her resigned tone.
The door opened and Alex's brain short-circuited. Despite considerable experience with the female form, he couldn't help but admire the view. His earlier irritation evaporated instantly.
As he'd planned, the small towel barely covered her curves, creating an enticing silhouette. Her wet black hair cascaded over the white terry cloth, her skin like polished ivory—clear evidence of her privileged upbringing. Standing so close, the mingled scents of his body wash and her natural perfume sent his imagination running wild.
A classical poem about imperial concubines bathing sprang to mind, perfectly capturing the moment.
"Sorry I took so long!" Emma apologized, the picture of delicate femininity.
"No problem at all!" Alex assured her quickly, his initial enchantment with her fully restored—enhanced, even.
"I'll... go to my room now!" Emma fled, face flaming.
'What a wonderful night!' Alex leaned against the wall, grinning dreamily.
His reverie was broken by an insistent phone ring.
"Alex! Are you sleeping? What's taking so long?" Emma Winter's voice blasted through the speaker.
"Who's asking? Taking a census?" he grumbled, still seeing curves when he closed his eyes.
"It's Emma! Are you stupid? Video chatting with dinosaurs?"
"Huh?" Reality slowly returned—right, they'd been playing cards.
Back at his computer, he found their opponents had quit, while Emma had flooded their chat with complaints.
"What were you doing?" she demanded over the phone.
"Current location: WC. Position: squatting. Face: strained. Status: pushing..."
"Just... hurry up!" She hung up.
Alex grinned and typed: "Miss me?"
"That was quick! Just fingers?"
"How'd you know? Peeping under the stall?"
She replied with a knife emoji.
"Enough nonsense—I'm trying to level up. Help me and dinner's on me tomorrow!" Emma offered.
"Deal!" Still buzzing from his towel encounter, Alex was too wired to sleep anyway. Might as well earn a meal!
They continued their collaborative strategy across multiple games until Emma finally achieved her goal in the early hours.
"Yes! Leveled up!" A victory cry echoed from Building D's sixth floor at 2 AM.
'That was one hard-earned dinner,' thought Alex from Building C's sixth floor as consciousness finally faded.