Wyatt
I feel like shit as I return from taking the trash out in the morning and see the door to Kim’s unit. It’s firmly shut. I stand there for some time, wondering when Kim’s coming out to go to work.
I didn’t run into Kim yesterday morning like I’d hoped. Or in the evening either, even though I stood here like an idiot for an hour.
And today’s the same. I even got up earlier than normal, even though I’m working from home.
Maybe she’s working from home, too.
I shake my head as soon as the thought pops into my head. Salazar Pryce is a generous boss—weirdly so—but he seems to value his own comfort and convenience over everything else. Letting her work from home when he’s in the office? Not his style.
Maybe give her a call? But that seems kind of impersonal. She deserves a face-to-face apology.
The knob on Kim’s door turns.
Hope stirs, my heart pounding. I said it all wrong on Saturday, but I can fix this. I’ve put a lot of thought into it. A perfect, flawless script is ready to go in my head. I even rehearsed it a few times in front of a mirror, just to make sure.
But it’s Yuna who comes out, dressed in a white T-shirt and denim shorts. She’s holding Champ’s leash.
The second she notices me, she stops, then peers at me over her huge sunglasses. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”
“Hi,” I say with a friendly smile, even though she’s continuing to look at me like I just stole her boyfriend.
She pushes the sunglasses back up her nose, then walks Champ right by me without a word. He looks back. I know what he’s thinking: Dude, you’re in the doghouse so bad, you might as well be a dog.
“Hey, is Kim working from home today?” I ask, even though I’m certain the answer is no.
“Why don’t you call her and find out?” Yuna says without looking at me, then disappears into the elevator.
Shit. This does not bode well. A woman might not always tell you how she feels, but her friends? They’ll say it.
I stare at the door. This attempt to accidentally run into Kim is stupid. I should just face her like a man.
I knock hard a few times. Nothing. I press my ear to the door, trying to see if there’s any sound on the other side.
Still nothing.
Maybe she already left for work. But when? I’ve been waiting for—I check my watch—twenty-some minutes out here.
Champ’s got it right. I might as well be a dog.
Sighing, I go back to my apartment and try to work, even though the situation with Kim is distracting. How the hell am I going to fix things if I can’t see her?
An hour later, loud piano music comes from Kim’s place. It’s not a recording. It sounds like somebody’s actually playing. When did Kim and Yuna get a piano?
The performance isn’t bad. I’m no critic, but I can tell whoever’s at the piano is good. It’s just that…it’s so damn loud! And it’s just really boring scales and drills. Vi had to do those for a while because Geneva wanted her to, until the piano teacher said Vi would never be accepted to Julliard.
I wait for the person—probably Yuna or a guest—to get tired and quit. Vi could never do the scales and drills for more than half an hour before falling on the floor in an exhausted heap. But this pianist seems to be on steroids or something.
Two hours later, the music is still going at full speed, volume and vigor. It’s like an android is at it.
Finally fed up, I knock hard on Kim’s door. The music stops, and Yuna sticks her head out.
“What?” she says.
“You mind keeping it down? You or your friend or whoever’s playing?”
“My friend?” She arches an eyebrow. “Is that how we refer to pianos these days?”